Bombs like bells ring in your ears while they call upon the masses to rise in the morning but your to scared to sleep because of what awaits you. Whats resting on a sidewalk? We keep a dry watchful eye because they come in droves like wolves foaming in there crusty diseased mouths. They talk of good intentions with a quivering lip, they sing of distance and whats around you. These are men in an office, a police car, a talking uniform, a badge a figure head who reads your name as a number of infinate numbers in a endless pile of numbers. Our People, like beasts, kill for survival. what great differences do we hold so high? The Beasts kill to protect, to live, to continue, we kill for pleasure, to satisfy with death counts. its a hunger, a dying hunger, not for nourishment but for a sense of power, entitlement, throbbing adrenaline. To squeeze the life from a neck or to destroy from a distance. we are numb to the act of killing. We fear it so much yet we are impervious to its pain. we are the Numbers, we are the Beasts