i fear hatred when inanimate dark eyes
look past my face as it changes from silence
i only anticipate drug-infested violence
as only a middle-class product can, i prepare to die

lips grow old with the life-blood leaving
for the stupidity of an immortal's drive
only out of blindness can a warrior rise
in the peace of a sweat-drenched metallica shirt

the world awaits patiently for a display of pride and hurt