Saviors of beauty.
What a soul so white and pure,
stained not from the turmoil of our world.
Forgetting all of our cherished promises, this is what makes man.
Stories of a savior.
Visions of a disaster.
On our tongues we lust for vanity, our souls bathe in sinful beauty.
We walk along that shatter trail, staggering between the lesser of moral fights.
Just as long as we come out on top, keep both hands clasped together praying for heavenly greed. Extend to no one that hand of friendship, leave the weak at the bottom, starving poverty, this sounds so absurd.
Yet you cannot deny what makes you man.
Here on our world.

Even on the darkest side of the Earth we still see the sun.
Even on the Hell we call Earth, we can still feel so cold, trapped in a social predatory food-chain.

When it comes time to realize,
open up your eyes and look at the world blind,
so disconnected.
Metaphysical transcendence,
all of our different deities,
melt and blend into a new God.
Somewhere on the dark side of the Earth...
He sings to us a soft and gentle melody.

Trust in no one.
Only believe in me.

We all see through fanaticism as a smoke screen reason to be so full of hate.
We believe it.

Somewhere between the ending and a new beginning maybe someday.
Maybe someday we will see that sun again, on the dark side of the Earth.

Just believe it.
Just be.
Be forever in it.