In the never-ending circle where

The powerless meet

There grows a struggle from the burden

Of sustaining defeat

In the face of every coward lies the

Blindest of hate

And in the eyes a sharpened image of

The damage they made

You look at me to bear the burden of the suffering past

It wasn't me behind the veil

Of a heartless mask

And where were you the day that everybody

Cursed your name?

You were the distant voice of pride

That never stood the shame.



The weak of the mind will use fist

And the fist of the frail will bring gun

The loudest of guns provoke bombs

And in wrath he will chase until it's done.



CHORUS:

Your history is dead.

Dead wrong.

Dead - dead wrong.

Philosophy is dead.

Dead wrong.

Dead - dead wrong.



Within the mind of modern culture

There's an idle cog

It is the section of humanity that never forgot

And in the midst of moving forward we have given the right

To let the wolves attack the sheep and bury guilt inside

I won't forget the twisted picture of the filth that we were

Or disregard the fading voices of the people we hurt

But I was never pulling triggers or degrading your face.

Don't look at me to give the reason for the pain that you trace.



(CHORUS)



The scars outlive the pain.

Reflections will remain.

The scars outlive the pain.

Your sickness will remain.



Dead - dead wrong.