Your Little Suburbia Is In Ruins

Open those eyes

Wake from peace

Open those eyes

Wake from peace

Orders are some favorite color

Same old same old is their battle cry

Why don't we keep searching

Searching for a new flavor

Our hearts have become routine

Our hearts have become routine

Our hearts have become routine

Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing

Worthy kings have broken backs

Unless we cherish

All with pride

The lines on our face will turn

Into canyons

Of sorrow instead of hope

Instead of hope

They didn't die from cold without

But they died from cold within

They didn't die from cold without

But they died from cold within

They didn't die from cold without

But they died from cold within

Oh

And I just can't stop denying

That our brothers are in miserable pain

And I just can't stop denying

That our brothers are in miserable pain

Open those eyes

Wake from peace

Open those eyes

Wake from peace

Stop short

Lend a hand and break the chains

Of regularity

Upon which you hold

You lean so closely upon

So closely upon

Your little suburbia is in ruins

It's in ruins

Tear down all the assumptions you hold

Tear down all the assumptions you hold

Tear them down

Tear down all the assumptions you hold

Tear them down

Yeah

For I guarantee they are false

Sometimes the best feeling

May be the one that kills