'Now as the rain falls like shattered pieces of glass from the sky
we bleed like water colors and drunken pastels down the stairways
And I ask myself
why do I still pray?
When will it end?
And who fucking cares?
I swear to God I did what I coils
I practically begged you
I pretended everything was fine
A soul sacrifice
An American nightmare
I'd rather be dead'
- The Boy Who Could Fly
