The Scorpion Deathlock

Distance decreases As if time is a dying cockroach Plagues enclose Plagues enclose Sitting upon this wooden bench I am helpless to billions of bullets In this moment I am helpless In this moment Why is it so difficult to see ourselves? Why is it so difficult to see ourselves? Why is it so difficult to see ourselves? Why? Why is it so difficult to see ourselves? Why is it so difficult to see ourselves? No poem I've wrote nor song I have sung Can halt the army of wrath Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers In this moment I am helpless, helpless In this moment Serpents will transform into mice Only to drown in the deepest red I've always expressed my thoughts in colors But we remain blind Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers