All The World Is Mad - Thrice

We are saints made of plaster, our laughter is canned

We are demons that hide in the mirror

But the blood on our hands

Paints a picture exceedingly clear

We are brimming with cumbersome, murderous greed

And malevolence deep and profound

We do unspeakable deeds

Does our wickedness know any bounds?

Something’s gone terribly wrong

With everyone

All the world is mad

Darkness brings terrible things

The sun is gone

What vanity!

Our sad, wretched fires

We can’t medicate man to perfection again

We can’t legislate peace in our hearts

We can’t educate sin from our souls

It’s been there from the start

But the blind lead the blind into bottomless pits

Still we smile and deny that we’re cursed

But of all our iniquities

Ignorance may be the worst

Oh little light we have!

It only serves to show

The snares and seeds of wrath

We have already sewn on every path