All Odds & Fat Frauds
Behind enemy lines, trials of terror/
With every essence of an error, clues raid the sector/
Afraid of the alleyways of the city streets of grief/
Offering heaps of ruckus, stuck in cells and digitized so we never sleep/
We reap madness kindled passions are forsaken/
Aches from our fruits crying lakes for paths never taken/
Raped by society and shamed by our visages/
The flames of our radiance are spotted by colossal grimaces/
Forsook and pressure-cooked by our own compassions/
We were hooked in and sunk, drunk with dregs and ever dancing.
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