أعمى

right there laying in front of your eyes,
all the truth you need underneath black ice

all the white noises screeching out a disguise,
piling it with nasty white lies

all the human commotion guise by suit and tie,
the bloodied hand gloved with a smile so wry

mountain of bodies, enthroned the pawn
the glass wall blinding the spawn

the ones who pull the strings need not waiver
for a swing of an ax only kills the puppet not the puppeteer