You stand there, head held high
With a cast of misconceptions over your neck
Looking down on them, you stand there
While forgetting your roots of misfortune
Wearing a fancy dress, only to hide the scars
You bury your sorrows
The mud of bluff All over your face, splattered by you
Putting on a mask, only to hide the scowl
Everyone knows the mask
But who knows the face?
The mask joins with your veins
Whereas the face peels out
You don't know you now
You don't accept you now
Trying to integrate the fake pride in your blood
Trying to belong, whereas loosing yourself
In this futile attempt, you became no more than dust
The sin consumes you, but not realise yourself
In this pursuit of fake pride, I hope you get yourself back
