Tell me it will be okay,
Tell me it will be alright,
Please, tell me…
“I can not.”
Sin – the driven ways of livin’ from day to day, torn at the fray
Broken vessel, waiting for repairs – the puppy they want to rescue
Confide the truths we hide; whispering away our secrets as we lay
Divine, a mind in corruption looking for the light, but he left you
Pitch fork tail, a beast raised in the shadows known as prison
Exiled for his believes, free thought, please – only anger for him to feast
Locked away, an outsider, the horns began to raise, nobody would listen
Heaven cast him away, his soul fit for damnation; hope, it’s what he had least
“Tear me apart, sew me back together,
Mimic my unlikeliness, and call me the devil.
Storied lies you create, a disgrace to you’re brethren.
Call it hell, I call it home – here we all rule
Our horns are our halos – not like yours.
Accepting ourselves for the mistakes – we forgive but still hate.
That the angels accepted above, look down on all of us.
Better? Believe not. Equal, close but still not.
The same in design, pierce me or you, and blood we will find.
Judgement, it’s the only difference between you and I.
Live your lie until the doubt climbs up, and you die.
These horns are my halo, and hear I reside…”
….I was told I was equal, but I am not?
“You are not.”
I was told I was evil, but I am not?
I am not?
“Tell you, I can not.”
“I am not the judge.”