Soil Born

Those cused by the saints

With footprints crudling from room to room

Represent nothing but just little stains

No repentence saces them from heart of doom

Dusted by age, battles and sorrow

Sinning in the name of the unknown

Blinded by the dream of evolution

Only to learn that its a myth when they grow old

As the world vanishes and new beginnings are yet to come 

As a servent in a ballroom you're not meant to have fun