Death Of The Dance

Forget me or forgive me not.
These are all the ideas that I’ve got.
Mother’s in the streets with tears in their eyes.
Babies are crying because of the cracked skies.
Hound off the lease and sinking right in.
Streets littered with despair, not sure where to begin.

Death of the dance,
Removed the romance.
Life of decay;
Will end us as we play.

Forget me or forgive me not.
This is all my mind is capable to spot.
Bodies are hanging from posts with bright lights.
On every corner the mindless engage in fights.
Buildings are aflame and starting to fall.
Across the walls are the final words written in scrawl.

Death of the dance,
Removed the romance.
Life of the decay;
Will end us as we play.

Division has become our party trick.
If only it wasn’t multiplying the sick;
That which I feel as I breathe.
All around are things that do seethe.
Twist the blade deeper into skin.
If only we could say that from here on in,
Slaughter and violence would not be our principal guiding.

Wouldn’t that be a real something.
Not real and I doubt it ever will come.
Our numbers are too busy living by the gun.
Obsessed by self-destruction and that which is insane.
This is a backstory to our in motion campaign.

Death of the dance,
Removed the romance.
Life of the decay,
Will end us as we play.

Forget me or forgive me not.
Forgive naught and forget the lot.