Complex Terms

Careless, to try to think that we've progressed

And the consequence of walking quietly

We only know, what we've been told

Self's exposed and overloaded

These monuments built by thieves

Keep us contained

Polished they stand and guide us

I found a four leaf clover

Hidden within

Buried beneath my fears

And we fall, kneeling

Begging for scraps

Hands and arms stretched out

We reach for what we're given

So privileged

I'd imagine it could be the fall of man

We come from control

A paradigm that leads us through the valley

Into the mouths of wolves

We are being eaten alive

And we fall, kneeling

Begging for what?

The tailor's shop has closed

And we don't dress for miracles anymore

Oh, how we believe in

All the monuments built by thieves...