They’re setting fire and it’s slowly killing what I believe,

chaos runs around the place and I don’t know how I’ll live.

I’ll probably die by suffocation—inhaling the toxic air that they released

but I’d rather kill myself than be saved by them and infect me with their disease. 

A disease that turns you into a slave

until they send you to your grave

with no pride written on your stone—

meaningful life, you should have owned.

I could have extinguished the fire before it catches me,

though I’m soaked with gasoline— one little flame into ashes I will be. 

They’re setting fire and it’s burning what I believe,

I watch it on fire and I remember this is not what I perceived.