Form of a game
Sounds really lame
But it tricks you into thinking
That you aren't sinking
It takes many a name
Power, wealth and fame
Mindless, pointless faking
An evil soul in the making
Be careful where you stray
Drawing in like a fragrant scent
But at the end our life is spent
On something short
Like an empty sport
Or a basketball court
Idols of things seen
By all the cruel and the mean
The payment is endless
But if it seemed so senseless
People would never join the fray
Why do they long
For a shrieking song
Of endless despair
That only one can repair
It puts on a mask of light
But the mask is not too bright
And it doesn�t seem fair
That the enemy doesn't care
Your mind and heart will quickly decay
Do not go for the look
A thought, or a filthy book
That will pollute your mind
Instead try to find
A hope of something that will stay
Psychics have a dark power
Which cause the weak to cower
But those with a soul
Feel altogether whole
Good will always win
Over joyless, vacant sin
So pick the right side
In which you can confide
And turn your path a different way