Help yourself to a shot of lies
Contorted mask distorted, despised
Waking days met with a cry
Is this way, justified?
Slow and sick
Medicine
Taste the fix
Jars of hate a hollow prize
Reap the price, all pride denied
Haze is met, in silent stares
Yellow skin, taste the waste, taste it
No disgrace
Medicine
The air has wept
All innocence is washed away
Wrecked by the burdens
Those infected look not in the eye
The denial so far inside