Tell me what to do with you when I can't make you see the truth.
You've got nothing left to lose, unless you count the ruse.
Everything you think you know is just another episode.
You refuse to see the show and now you feel alone.
You're not. I've tried to tell you. Will you hear my words?
Or not? Like it matters. I'll still let you in.
Come rest your bones. Call this place your home.
Now it's us against the world.
Not quite a fair fight. I'm doing what I can.
Now it's us against the world.
I'm on the bright side. I've got the upper hand, again.
Someone built society upon the ground of make believe,
tied us tight to all it's strings, and pull us as they please.
You were sold, and then you bought into being what you're not.
I can lead you to a thought, but I can't make you think,
about the things that matter. Will you see the facts,
about how you gave up? You've run out of spine.
Come rest your bones. Call this place your home.
I've been here a hundred times. Tried to write a thousand lines.
Failed to see a million signs: it's all in what you do.