Butterflies are made behind
Closed doors
Go inside and close yours
No one can see what we
Go through
Inside
It takes time
To fly
We must dry our
Weeping eyes
Tears are for those who cry
How can we believe
In rainbows
When everything is
In black and white
Though the stories
Been told
There’s no
Yellow brick road
In the ghetto
The flag is false
It’s a farce
Lost in the forest
Looking for
Arsalan
King of the jungle
Euphoria
The thread is
Never ending
It’s so hard
To get through
The eye
Pricked
Without a thimble
To cushion the blow
Stars on the ground
Selling their souls
For a million pounds
30 pieces of silver
30 pieces of gold
Nothing on this earth
Is worth
Hell below
The time is
It’s too late
To slip up
Tripped up
By a snake
I already ate