We fell asleep in arms that fondled our teeth and sold them off to thieves Now we sell ourselves around Only time will tell if stories like these will share the same fate Regiments of disconnects emerge in a moronic gentleman's war with their eyes, their eyes blindfolded they rise Kneeling and trembling before him Waiting on knowledge, fed to us with a plastic spoon Consuming the scraps, of the misquoted and deceased, with every word spoken today Make what you will and understand, a typical feud nurtured, over many moons past Beyond the drought worn hillside, a figure appears as the cumulus over us darkens, we look up to face our fears And by the rise of his all powerful hand, he sets vengeance and proclaims "Follow me or be crushed to the depths of weak mannered simpletons. You have nowhere to hide, bow before me." The regiments morale dwindles As they stare at me I yell, "As we perish may our blood that spills, be not taken in vain, giving us continuance." And as he slaughtered them all one by one, I watched from a distance, waiting for the chance to raise my hand "No more, will I be under your manipulation" I thrust forward, with my perceptive glove, gathering all my strength, thou shalt now disappear Bruised and beaten, severed head in hand The archetype has failed We''never forget... We fell asleep in arms that fondled our teeth and sold them off to thieves Now we sell ourselves around Regiments of disconnects with their eyes, their eyes blindfolded they rise Battlefields colored with creeds Their eyes blindfolded, the rise into this world