The spotlight’s on, I’ve hit the ground running. There’s no looking back from this. The world is my stage, and I’m ready to perform. But nobody’s here to watch. Fact of the matter is, People only care if you’re pretty or dead. Fact of the matter is, You’re only in their minds if there’s something to gain. Fact of the matter is, People only care if you’re pretty or dead. Fact of the matter is, You’re only in their minds if there’s something to gain. The spotlight’s on, I’ve hit the ground running. There’s no looking back from this. The world is my stage, and I’m ready to perform. But nobody’s here to watch.

I am not a martyr, I am just a man who believes in something. I am a man who understands the world, And a man who can’t bear to watch it fall. The atlas of life shows us the way. The world keeps on turning, But we can’t seem to move with it. At this rate, we might as well just jump. We might as well just jump. I’ve been falling asleep at the wheel, On the road to discovery. But through all my travels I’ve found, That all we live for is all for naught. The atlas of life shows us the way. The world keeps on turning, But we can’t seem to move with it. At this rate, we might as well just jump. We might as well just jump. Some of us live for greed, some live for wrath. Most of us live for trivial motives. As long as we’re living we’ll still be damned. Because thriving is a sin, and we all are guilty. We are guilty. We are guilty. We are guilty. We are guilty.

The year is 1946, and a paradise has risen. Rapture was born, and a new age came with it. Art would thrive, and law wouldn’t interfere. And with the sweat of your brow, it can be your city as well. A city where the artist would not fear the censor, Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small. But with every utopia comes a failure. Fighting and looting, murder and poverty. It all happened so fast to a place so new, Chaos broke out and society fell apart. Addiction served as the cause of it all. A city where the artist would not fear the censor, Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small. And with the sweat of your brow, it can be your city as well. A savior is born, but for all the wrong ways. Controlled by the man who started the plague He would jump at a single phrase, As uttered by his master. “A man chooses and a slave obeys. Now cleanse the filth of this place, Would you kindly?”

The strings were connected long ago. Led by the masters, our race had begun to wane. Free thought had become a thing of the past, The world now survives on collective conscience. Being in the hive mind brings us security. Falling into line keeps us from danger. Following this set path will keep us united, But it sacrifices our individuality. Our ideas mesh together, Become one in the same. Imagination takes a screeching halt, Leaving no room for creative thought. The spirit of the artist is diminished. Value of creation is reduced to none. The voice of the people has become mute. Freedom has failed and we’re led to captivity. We’ve become puppets. Slaves to the overmind. Mutating to their needs. Our evolution has been taken over. We as a race are becoming dependent. We as a swarm have been controlled. We have no sense of preservation. There is no sign of intelligent life. We’ve become puppets. We’ve become just like the rest. Mutating to their needs. Our evolution has been taken over. We’ve become puppets. Slaves to the overmind.

Every man holds the key, the key that unlocks the world. It’s right within, within their grasp. Every man is capable of something greater, But not many are able to see their true potential. To write is to play god. A man can create at his own will. What is written becomes reality, Do with it what you please. Creating an interest in artistic vision, Can preserve your name for eternity. Upholding your sense of originality, Is how one etches their name in history. The artist holds the key to creation. Dreams shall become reality. If he were without his power, The world wouldn’t be what it is today. To write is to play god. A man can create at his own will. What is written becomes reality, Do with it what you please. With creation comes destruction. It’s up to you to decide which to follow. The ultimate power is in your hands. Do with it what you please. The artist holds the key to creation. Dreams shall become reality. If he were without his power, The world wouldn’t be what it is today. Breathe life onto the canvas. Words hold the power of reality. God created man with words, And man created god with words. As man we have created, But as gods we will destroy. As man we have created, But as gods we will destroy.

We are all part of a corporate game. Each one of us, individual pieces. There's no such thing as a human race, we're all just a commodity. Nothing more than a game to the upper class. Not many of us see the big picture. None of the herd sees what's going on. How can all of you be so blind? Look around you, look at what's happening. Men and women and children are being lied to and their lives are being destroyed by the deceitful corporations and "protectors" that we entrust our whole lives and our income to. They provide us with a convenience, but how convenient can something really be? In the true light of things, the only convenience is towards the companies themselves, so they can gain more from our suffering. And yet, people still keep on buying and buying, not noticing a single thing. Never questioning, just sitting tight and letting their wallets and their time drain away. The sand in the hourglass is being poured out little by little, and you people don't even feel a thing. Stop what you're doing, stop the mindless activities you're doing, and listen. Look around you, at the environment you've placed yourself into. Can you really go on like this much longer? You can, if you make a difference. Become a wolf. Rise up, and revolt. Together, we can bring forth a new empire, The utopia that we've been promised but were never delivered. We will have our Elysium.

We are beings built upon wasted talent. Unable to see our true potential. We were born to flourish, but instead we obliterate. Instead we obliterate. We are a nation, a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs. Neither god nor government can be, Your savior from reality. We are a generation of ignorance, Built by a generation of contradiction. Can you honestly look at this world today, And say you’re proud of what it’s become? We are beings built upon wasted talent. Unable to see our true potential. We are a nation, a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs. Neither god nor government can be, Your savior from reality. We are a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs We are a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs We are a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs We are a nation of sheep, Ruled by wolves and owned by pigs We are beings built upon wasted talent. Where will you be tomorrow, when we defile today? We are a nation of sheep. We are a nation. We are a nation of sheep. We are a nation.

We have all been stuck in a rut Having every day scheduled, minute by minute We are nothing more than machines A mechanized world is our reality. We’ve lost all emotion, and I’m not an exception. We’re slowly turning into the machines we depend upon Veins and joints are replaced by wires and bolts Empathy has been overtaken I am a machine And I can’t feel a thing I am a machine And I can’t feel a thing They say blood is thicker than water But oil is thicker than blood Yet we still don’t have a connection To the ones we grew close to before Rip out my circuits and dismantle my brain I don’t want to live if I can’t feel a thing A motherboard is no replacement To a true beating heart.

The circle of life relies on survival, The strong must conquer the weak. Only the fittest can remain, As humans, we strive to fit that bill. Humans thrive at the top of the game. We’re driven to uphold this role. Even among them, I stand amongst the gods. I have earned my rightful throne. I have the strength to move mountains, The drive towards perfection. I have the mind to lead a world, The intent to watch it crumble. Apex predator. Apex predator. I hunt solely for sport. I do it just to watch the struggle. Nothing can escape my grasp, You’re all doomed to extinction. I am a predator, I am at the top. I am a predator, and I cannot be touched. I am a predator, I am at the top. I am a predator, and I cannot be touched. I stand tall above the ecosystem. All shall kneel before my feet. I claim my role as juggernaut, An empyrean mastermind. Apex predator. Apex predator. You don’t even know my name. I am the lizard king. I am a predator. I am a predator. I am a predator. I am a predator.

I’ve been ostracized by the place I held my heart. I’ve tried to hold close, but it pushed me away. The only regret I’ll ever have in life, Is the fact that I’ll grow old without a home. I’ve placed myself on the mountaintop. Standing tallest amongst existence. While on my pedestal, I failed to see The errors in my assumption. I saw myself as the strongest being. Darwin’s choice in organisms. In reality, I was just the prey, To those I considered beneath my feet. Ayo turn the beat up a little bit. Man, I thought hurricane season was over. Somebody better call up Dairy Queen, Cause there bought to be a blizzard up in here. I am a failure. I’ve brought shame to my family. I am a failure. An embarrassment to society. Perfection was never in my grasp. I never deserved my throne. Being a juggernaut was an illusion, Brought on by a false sense of self. I’ve been pushed aside by all I’ve wronged. There’s nothing I can do to change their minds. I’ve acted like I was above the world, When all I wanted was a place to rest my head. When all I wanted was a place to rest my head.

I tried to repent for my sins, I tried to make up for all I’ve wronged, But there was nothing left to fix, The damage was done and I was just too late. If home is where the heart is, Then why am I so close to the edge? If home is where the heart is, Then what do I do if I can’t pay the rent? Is this what my life has come to? Being locked away, alone with myself. I’ve been screaming at mannequins, Praying to god I get a response. I’ve been moving just for the sake of motion, Screaming out for a sense of sound. All my life I’ve been deaf to the truth. I’ve had answers that I’m too blind to see. I stand in front of an empty grave. A hole in the ground dug just for me. I’m at my own funeral ball, The soil will soon become my home. I wouldn’t listen to those who helped me. Thousands of notions just shoved in my face. So many tried to make me believe, It’s too bad they’ll never know I’m gone.

We need to reach up, up to the sky, If we want to build an empire. Our goal lies just beyond the sun, We need to follow the signs towards the path. Your thoughts will take you in the wrong direction From past choices that you have made. Delete them from your mind, delete and repeat, Cast on to a new age of humanity. Why is this all happening? Why are you leading us, promising salvation? Dead promises are a thing of the past, When heaven is silent, we will be the ones to speak. The eyes of the broken, they tell the tale; One of the never-ending war within us. Yet, in the arms of mercy, you’re all that I see. Engraved in our hearts is the truth of our existence. We are but instruments, puppets to the master. Beaten, betrayed, denied of our faith. Out of the darkness, and into the fire, He hath fallen, but shall rise up again. This is not what you’ve promised us. We need to cut the strings to reach potential. We are the masterminds of our own destinies. Dead promises are a thing of the past, When heaven is silent, we will be the ones to speak. We will be the ones to speak. When heaven is silent, we will be the ones to speak.