the bats scatter from the downpour, i cant take any more, do you hear the silent screams, buried 6 feet deep in apathy? as they cant , prey on the hopeless hearts, until the forsaken day when the trees will there rust red, bleeding for the hopeless hearts, and bleeding from the superficial paper cuts, from the money and the diamonds who were your best freinds that are now pouring down your throath fast like cheap gasoline so hold up the scissors to your throath and free your scream.