No one can make you understand what you don’t want to comprehend;
You’d rather believe idealistic lies that fall from the blackened skies;
You’d rather push the limits of fantasy in blasphemy of naked truth;
And no one can save you from your self-made prison of deadly poison;
You balk at all talk of truth and reality to your own eventual fatality
With latchkey of hell in one hand, filigree of deadly fantasy in the other;
And the banshee screams within the halls of Hades, will you take the bait?
No, you will not wait to satiate your depthless appetite with such trite
Songs of belonging to a handsome phantom in tantrum of raw passion
In high fashion forged from ashen memories of empty soul treasuries.