We were born sinners
Each of us
Only beginners
Our betrayal is tasteful
In the viewers mouthful
We deny survival for creativity
They devour us with mouths starving
See the players on the stage
The designer misbehaved
Pull the strings
And see if they can be saved
Let the broken be replaced
Turn to dust
If you can’t change
This place is lunacy
Let it fill me
Let it take me
And I’ll sing my praise
In place of the lost days
This is purpose
This is pleasure
In this madness there is no measure
We are
And we will be
We give our sins tastefully
A sacrifice
Worthy of ourselves
The bee’s sanctity
Is in it’s willingness to sting