I watched snow white burn in hell
Every little lovebird is alone
The three blind mice have finally fallen
And Cinderella has turned to stone
There's no such thing as a happy ending
If it's you who has written the story
While all of your bones sit in silence
Shaking with literature glory
The sky could be green
The moon could be deadly
There could be no trees
But the oxygen would be lovely
And you can make every single person run for miles
You could take anything away
Even their own child
You could hear Ariels' screams from the castle below
Fairy tales collapse in the sand that's turning to snow
Why don't we all pack our tents and stay for the show
Every single smile is fading, I kind of want to go
The rocks could be sharper
The cliffs could be steeper
All of the ocean could be a little meaner
And you could make every single life turn into a maybe
Even the lives of all their precious babies
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The White Illusion's Random Rants or whatever...
Just whatever I feel like writing....
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The White Illusion
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