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