LYRIC

From this distance clarity is a laughable ideal
Words shouted aloud, no audible appeal
The machines keep rolling, the show must go on
The kings strategically sacrafice their pawns
Don't wanna play that game, oh no
I Don't wanna waste away
Don't wanna join the ranks of the dead
I'm barely breathing on the edge
But I enjoy the view
From safety, fingers pointed amount to nil
If the guns don't get you, your silence will
Must I always shirk? Give me some constructive work
Or some meaningful responsibility

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