For all the beauty that life holds,
I see no grace in what we've sold,
For oh-so great prosperity,
We've sacrificed humanity.
We hold things to be great and true,
Because they're rare and found in few,
And soak up lies with fleeting eyes,
Not seeing past the great disguise.
For all the prayers that pass our lips,
I find it odd few are for bliss,
But more often for a face,
Worthy of praise to take our place.
And for the few that make it through,
Ever untarnished and true,
We cast them out as mere misfits,
What would god think of all this?
We dare not look upon his face,
For fear of disgust and disgrace,
But instead turn all these blind eyes,
Back to this life we've built of lies.
