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