Why do we strive To sell our souls Give our lives away To the devil that we know Is it better this way Will you make it today Breathing six feet deeper Than the heart you stole What does it take to see The patience you've gifted Laid to waste by the wind You never thought to be wicked The air gets thicker in the lungs of the deceived How could I know that the deceiver was me Take another medicated piece of mind What's inside the deception I see What's behind the cold veil of Mystique A materialistic reprieve I am dead to all and To all I am all but me