Paroles: Riot Before (The). Fists Buried In Pockets. Threat Level Midnight.

The light on the wall from the candle?s flame
Defies all the books filled with old cliches
Though I didn?t doubt the veracity
Of flickering belief
The truth evident in fire?s repose
Consumes blackened wick motionless and slow
This proves polar to what I?ve been told
A false reality
Excite the aristocracy?s decline
Reject inherited design
And purge the habits of the assumed life
The lies dressed in clothing of the tame
The eyes set ablaze in the altar?s flame
Denied so we can see the world the same
Bartered security
To plunge far below all the rusted thought
To run to the borders of all we?re taught
Expunge the corrupt and expired lot
Of mass identity
The voice within is screaming
It echoes off the ceiling
This house is not worth living
If I first don?t own the floor
I?m burning down to build back
With the skeptic and the cynic
I?ll court the optimistic
Then open up the door