what kinda life is this they out here killing kids they shoot they don't miss they don't miss it always hit like home the shooters only 12 years old on a mission to rest a soul it's hard to rest assure to activate to be bored everything must burn leave no stone unturn to etch it in the ground like words on a tomstone on memorial day in a cemetery it's easy to bury dead flowers "why we can't rest from what we tired of" what do these tears mean besides keep our eyes clean one less child to tell "keep your room clean" one in the dirt the other in chains the mask don't hide the pain when it's often in the area