I can see Mephistopheles upon the grim, grazing clouds above

His eyes call out to me

Why is he after me?

If we cut off an angel’s wings to secure God’s win, 

Would it be an hellish act?

We’ll cut off her wings and ponder it as we extend our flag 

Precise chaos 

Immoral glory 

Rows of fallen doves

White Freedom

Indecisive victory 

Impure porcelain

I can feel it in the air, 

Ask me any question I don’t care

Am I weak or are you strong?

Can I stand? Look I’m on my feet

Are we wrong or are we true?

Can I ask a question or do you just repeat?

Am I strong or are you weak? 

Whose beady eyes looking after me?

I can feel his hands after me

Me? Why does he want me? 

Am I torn into pieces? 

Am I stronger or are you very weakened 

Am I torn at the seams,

 I don’t understand

Do you fight for us or care at all, 

Because this, 

This blood is for her

Please don’t come for me