This is murderous, the way we live our lives,
day-to-day minutia binds our souls to the race,
captivated with nothing, enthralled with everything.
Filled to the brim with sin as dense as our spit,
we hone our craft of deceit and grow into animals,
creatures of habit, creatures of impulse.
Faced with the blessing of death or the curse of persistence,
we choose to paint this world with our disregard,
our hate for the truth, our subtle misanthropy.