Lyrics

Worn wooden pews and colorful windows line the center aisle of a little old church. Taken at First Methodist Church of Jermyn. NOTE: this church was built in 1910. In 1968, it was designated as a Texas Historic Landmark.

Do you think it’s really so simple,
that everything is just black or white?
Pitting your morals against us,
it’s not a question of who’s wrong or right.

You cast judgment without understanding,
while your foundation is crumbling away.
Believing you’re walking above us,
when your morals are deep in decay.

[continue]. . .

Black and white hand-drawn and inked artwork on fluorescent-green paper. A drawing of a young man (Cromwell Green) with his hands together in front of his face sits in front of a large moon. His forehead rests against his fists. Cromwell is dressed in black with three spiked wristbands on each wrist. His long, spiked hair hangs over his hands. His white eyes are devoid of pupils and irises.

Cowering in fear
a life without meaning
my purpose in vain
exist without feeling

I turn up the music
to the threshold of pain
drown out the voices
all shackled in chains

Don’t know where to go
there’s nowhere to hide
’cause you can’t run
from the monster inside

[continue]. . .