White Coated Warriors

Feed the disease, sanity trascends
Feed the disease, strings are bludgeoning
Who the broken lord of emptyness and found in the time for the bath of sleep dark senses now torn down by his own sword rampaging through the heavens?
Who the torn up town fool whom embracing the whole ideal speaks upon times which no longer turn to shake our feet?
Who we are in all our Who we are in this place Who we are we are Who we Who Who Who?

It's dark and sound emits from within
The pressure's been put upside down
The eyes been turned beyond the creep show
The freak show the who the who the who

Who the one who's leather armor shines in white splendour and gives a relentless hug?
Who the one who has slain his dreams thousand times just to again look through that window and realize his mind's in his head
Not out there. In his head
In his head. In his head
Who the one his head his turned his head his face his scar his face his mind his who his head his place his who his trace his stain his loss his head his who his who HIS WHO HIS WHO HIS WHO
HIS WHO HIS WHO HIS WHO

Until the bright white hold calms down the beign
Or it ends collapsing withing it's own fire
The light will sease the who