Terror, on your TV screen,
Diamond blade cutting cardboard,
And the night begins to bleed.
As you fall, through the dirty ground
Into the grasp of your maker,
Hear the silence of his sound...
Puppets, dangling from your fingertips,
The reunion of two lovers lips,
In blinded desperation.
Every blast just like a miniature earthquake,
Spread your wings, now it's time to wait
For the big man to call your number.
Could you graze the light
Upon the pillar which your sanity stands,
Let your weary veins drip dry.
And how could you stand the sight,
Gazing over the lives that you've undone.
On the phone a mother cries.