Eyes of snakes are dry,
When they weep they die,
Precious life giving fluid within,
Selfish creatures, those creatures of sin,
What a lie that is,
What a symbolic farse,
Snakes are used as idols of fear,
Idols of pain, sin and terror,
But the real creature of sin,
Whose selfish from within,
The real creature of pain,
Is the kind that we have slain,
The kind that cause us despair,
The kind that doesn't care,
The kind that looses sight,
Of what used to be right,
Of what used to be kindness,
The type who suffers from blindness,
Cos all they see when they stare,
Into the mirror of lies so fare,
Is the image of themselves;

Eyes of snakes are dry,
When they weep they die,
Precious life giving fluid within,
Selfish creatures, those creatures of sin,
The truth has been mislead,
It's something that has to be read,
This time i've gone and done it,
Cried by my side and done it,
This time i've really got it,
The futures in my pocket,
Told the truth to the blind,
The horrid truth though unkind,
Is that the snakes are our children,
And the sinners our ourselves,
And so what?
Nobody's perfect,

Not even God.

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