The Frame

Stray from the path of what you call righteousness You hold the morals of 1000 Dead men I’ll try to get it through your head until you get a taste of some common sense Your addition to the action and all these motherfuckers Acting like nothing is happening is all I can take The World has seen your face And you cannot Escape The wrath of 10000 men with torches and pitchforks to run through your head Blood to spill is all I can think about My fury’s only intention is bringing you down You’re fucked and all out war is what awaits your sick return Blood to spill is all I can think about My fury’s only intention is bringing you down You’re fucked and all out war is what awaits your sick return There are no heroes in this world Only the men that are put on the top of the pedestals I cloaked their eyes with the lies that you are the guilty, yet you’re the innocent I am the villain in your version, but truth is written by the victor