Help yourself to a shot of lies Contorted mask distorted, despised Waking days met with a cry Is this way, justified? Slow and sick Medicine Taste the fix Jars of hate a hollow prize Reap the price, all pride denied Haze is met, in silent stares Yellow skin, taste the waste, taste it No disgrace Medicine The air has wept All innocence is washed away Wrecked by the burdens Those infected look not in the eye The denial so far inside