Throwing rocks from your glass house
Dance circles 'round that flame
But don't be surprised when your feet are cut and your hands are burned
Sharp are the shards you lie
When placing all your blame.
You've changed the colors in the painting
Blindly adding all your own
You've made everything so different
Your strokes will leave you standing in the picture all alone.
You pull the knives out of our backs
Just to put them back again.
You can pretend that you are clean
But the crimson stains your hands.
So collect your stolen trophy loyalties
Falsely you feel as though you win
Though in the dark you've knocked us down...
When the sun sheds it's light on us again
We'll see who's standing in the end.