Do you see your reflection in the mirror?
No, not reality-is illusion
When you stand in a stylish hell,
Burning to the ground by words, reject prelude-
Here is the truth, here is the brutal lot
Goodness fights haughtiness
Snake grip rose up to the fashion,
Watchful ripeness is useless
Cast away-it is thought up by them
For humility
Here to stay, ignoring all
Living this way-this is your name
Do not repent,
Do not show a core
Exile-is not your blame
Exile-is not your shame
Exile-do you feel?
Exile-what i feel
There is a smell of homeless prison in my house,
My ground breathes destructive poison,
But anyway i'll be myself,
But anyway it will make me glad

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