We were all born shiny white sneakers,
most of us into mud.
Now, our dirtied laces form the noose that trips us up,
Souls holy enough to fall through.
We are here to catch those who stumble.
Tomorrow is coming;
Going.
Are you ready?
We are the bulls, running
Because it's what we know,
Running
Lemmings over the cliff
Into volcano.
We know what's coming.
We do not falter.
We are wrecking balls moving mountains.
We are bullets,
Fired up,
Ripping through fabric, flesh, and bone.
Man bleeds, dies slowly.
We are healing.
We are unstoppable.
We are unstable.
We are.
Tomorrow is coming.
Are you ready?
We are
