Vagrant
Waste
Of
Life
You cling to false ideals
And a misguided sense of youth
Things are never what they seem
Open up to the truth
Nothing
Is in your control
The things we fight at heart
Always end up owning the soul
That which we judge we become
And that which we hold dear become undone
Wasted sense of pride
Having only what you keep inside
I've earned every word and every single ounce of light
(Having only what you keep inside)
Vagrant
Waste
Of
Life
Desolate becomes your soul