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Painting mirrors with my eyes

To show filtered thoughts in mind

The wicked face of your idol

In fear of what will not reconcile...

Building egos on my lies

Something else grows with fruitless tries

My vagabond face of yourself

Believe in me since I seem like myself...

With all the thinking of what should be

Infamously encouraging futility

Would you like to see the insides of your martyr?

(Even) when there is absolutely nothing to see underneath?

Getting attention to think I would care

A bleeding heart empty with air

A word out mask of a dead expression

The broken mold of the same depression...

Do I seem more honest?

(Even) when the flesh is stripped?

All that's left are skeletons underneath the skin of everyone