To set the scene... silence; cut with violence, A young girl screams, then blue and red sirens You're no one on a weekday, the hate haemorrhages behind your face Weekend warriors come out to play only to be put back into place I put you back in your place Make no mistake your tongues on a tightrope, When it falls you'll break They walk as kings amongst men Were just silhouettes of stereotypes trespassing in their kingdom But you wont find me at your feet I'll meet you in the place were life and death meet Where justice is an obscenity Where all traces of hope smoulder inside of me At what point does blood boil? Emptiness and boredom are a dangerous mix Bite your tongue and become just another cog in the mechanics