The blood and the rust meld together after a while It looks the same so what’s the fuss The broken bones look a lot like snapped sticks after a while It surely isn’t God who picks which bones get split Dark and light blend into one after a while Soon the world will be no fun Family and enemies look the same after a while The fame gets to their heads and neither will make you smile Fake and real don’t matter after a while Just like rust and blood, they look the same, both in tatters Don’t be fooled by the good and the bad It’s all the same anyway