Today we all make our beds in Hell

Now try to lay in the crest of fallen angelic hate
We have every notion to do what is right yet instead we choose the wrong;
It's that same old dance to that same old broken down song
Now can't we all just get along?

On a great truth they not not of;

Neither do they know the one we have to do
Some have really insisted on its variation in a dream
Let the worshipers arise
Let the sons & daughters sing

Through a most solemn toast toward its quality approach

How do we ever learn to understand
What makes the myth from that in a man
A pulse of a heart beat in compulsion
Little by little they know their being played

It all would have worked out if only we had prayed

We maybe living in the final days
We grasp for straws in our island in dispare
We long to nurture wounds where no one seems to care
We often will disguise our true selves from reality

Doesn't anyone really care

Still we all like to hold our emotions deep inside
Others lie in vain scorched vanity in full resistance
Some our under a heavy load of burden in care
Yet our nation as a whole have often turned its back on God

We all fall short in the grand scheme of things
We often will tend to hide behind a false agenda in compromise;

Yet one word to the wise
Each one of us has been given a great talent & gift
Tyranny of the urgent
anxieties are cloistered nothing in comparison to a living hell;

Frailties come & go,
One may soon grasp at straws outside the porch window
Others may long to rely on a falsehood about themselves
Still some just complain as a stubborn mule does exist

Yet their whole earthly existence is one big mistake