In youths solitude the forging begins
Quantities that never will be satisfied
Preparing the young for the thirst
To get every last drop of attention
Eyes caged to the artificial figures
Slit wrists bleeding on the catwalk
Hearts hold quiet, veins pumping air

A stilted smile
Repaint it all
Refuse it all

As grind is my brush I repaint the truth
Scrape the old canvas clean
All the coating, all the protections
All the truth-bending lies, all the capitalistic thrives