Do you see your reflection in the mirror?
No, not reality-is illusion
When you stand in a stylish hell,
Burning to the ground by words, reject prelude-
Here is the truth, here is the brutal lot
Goodness fights haughtiness
Snake grip rose up to the fashion,
Watchful ripeness is useless
Cast away-it is thought up by them
For humility
Here to stay, ignoring all
Living this way-this is your name
Do not repent,
Do not show a core
Exile-is not your blame
Exile-is not your shame
Exile-do you feel?
Exile-what i feel
There is a smell of homeless prison in my house,
My ground breathes destructive poison,
But anyway i'll be myself,
But anyway it will make me glad
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
