good fashion

dark lenses

tint the windows that are under my eyelids

to hide from the light like i'm stuck in a fire pit

burning up a sigh

with no desire to live through these lies

so i suffer in silence

culture of violence

truth stuck behind my lips

bound

gagged

and whipped

stripped

divided and split

eatin' words with a forked tounge

and now the grumble of my stomache's got the thump of a war drum

a battle goin' on inside

nobody's safe from

clowns are playing rusian roulette with paint guns

they run in place

and they call it the human race

losin' pace with that stupid look on their face

shootin' blanks

and all they ask is why i wear these glasses

and all i can tell them is hell

it's good fashion

all they ask is why i wear these glasses

and all i can tell them is

hell. we're acting like men of steel

with a thin protective shield

gathering the raw footage that can never make the final reel

so we cover up the stories that eyes tell

make way for what we take to the grave

it doesn't bind both souls

buried in a faustian bargain bin

in the cemetary there's a joust between god and men

talkin' loud

but aint sayin' nothin

used to have daily discussions

i doubt we'll ever talk again

and all they ask is why i wear these glasses

and all i can tell them is hell

it's good fashion

all they ask is why i wear these glasses

and all i can tell them is

hell.