When this is over the slaughter house will rot
And as far as bacterial infections go-
Salt will be the cause of them all.
Doctors that make discoveries will die
Along with the patients they were trying to cure.
All the infections will stars off in their worst stages
And the hurricanes will come without warning.
The schizophrenics that aren’t let into the shelters
Will probably imagine a better ending than this.

When this is over it will take more than
The hope of encouragement and
empty promises to pull us back on our feet.
We won’t be nearly half of our accomplishments
And our excuses will never be good enough.
We’ll soon see the truth in our reflections,
When the walls of makeup aren’t thick enough
To hide behind anymore. We won’t be as fascinated
By diamond rings, and gold and what not,
And it wont take harsh sunlight and years of aging
To bring our flaws to the surface.
Because we were born old and dying.

When this is over we won’t bother
To call our loved ones just for the sake
Of not saying what we don’t mean.
There will be no more space between you and I
To say what we’ve been meaning to say
And do away with what’s too heavy
For us to take to our graves.
In the end you’ll have to claw your way
Through the arrogance and the imagery
So you can find my face.
And once I’m tired of this mask
I’ll have to scrape myself raw
Just to see who I really am.