Why should we care if it's just a little lie?

Because we live in an ocean,

Where the lies become flies,

Where the water is the blood of the forgotten,

And the trees are memories

Of what life used to be,

Before they came.

Under the pressure,

Under the dead ground,

Kings laughing through their lives of lies,

Watching their subjects die.

Our only answer to the

Question is the Question itself.

Because we know the sun will

Never rise in the dark,

We know the seas will rise and fall,

We know they'll show up once,

Or never at all.