We who look up steal glances to THE MEN.

Oh! The Great MEN! How they reign from the snow white buildings.

Caged up, protected from us mere mortals.

They sit up in the clouds, as their reign falls down upon those who have escaped their fates before.

Lightning strikes each bird who dares to fly up to their pity castle in the sky.

So small! Squeaking from their tombs of silence, 

As they hang from their nooses of anguish

A tomb of glass– we see, but don’t hear

Gagging on the backs of the broken

Laughing at the people of the weak and weary

What shall you do?! 

Begging through the mist of illusion and disguise–

Will you speak? Will you tell us?

Lord almighty, Gods up above?

We have come so far, so wide

Escaped the nooses that stood before us,

Why have THE MEN put us in a tomb?

Why do you put me in a tomb?

It is fate that they have met,

To those with fate in our hands.

We hear the cries of the wild women, the cries of the mild men,

Thrashing up to the sky.

Yet, YOU chose this fate, t’was you.

I am answered with silence

Silence I answer with–

I swing in my tomb of death.

Damn you, MEN.