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In 1945, Benito Mussolini was beaten to death by the people he ruled over
Beside his dead body, was the dead body of his lover
Roaring lights and starry eyes
Dry leaves and a will to survive
Faces are fading on the east side
And in essence, I was blind
I frequently subject myself to
Crying on my basement floor
I can hear this pain repeating
I am the scratch on the record
My headlights turn faded
6 Deer on the windshield
4 hours in a hospital bed
3 more resting in the back seat
Days turn to weeks, and my life
Fades to infinity
I don't think I belong here
I don't think I belong here
I'd rather be a martyr for a fallacy
But that does not change my destiny