Pandora

The world is a terrible place
Stinking and festering with the huddled masses
Clinging to hope that a speck of bread will appear
Magic thinking placed in wooden idols
The fraudulent who stand on stage
With the appearance that appearance is what matters
A box is brought off the shelf
Blowing off the the dust the inscription reads
HELL AWAITS ALL, IN THIS LIFE OR THE NEXT
Men try to reinvent the world
Turning the green and blue into metal gears
Fixated on the inanimate as means to salvation
Replacing the anointed for the well oiled
Open the coffin of the living and let the damned out
Allow them to take back the cursed landscape
Let it all sink down within itself
And as I lay dying I will awake
To tell a tale of when dreams become common place
Speaking of when we can all leave this place
The madness of death is knowing this
That we all now live within Pandora's Box