Small Rumors, Small Town

 We're in another time, In this small town painted grey

Where Daggers silence you in the night, for the words you say

Speak up and lose your peace, you'll gain new wounds each day. 

As you bleed on the rosary beads, gripped in shaky fingers

Praying desperately, with muffled screams, for these voices eager 

Who traumatize and rip your heart: to leave the light alone with a glow so meager. 

Just leave, you're on the ground, with nothing but the cross

"Insignificant to this town, your absence wouldn't be a loss!"

The crash of constant violent sounds has a terrible cost. 

 Many silent deaths, assassinations through the seasons,

Tired souls worked till their final breath without reason,

In this town, they falsely confess, giving the people "truths" to believe in. 

Those sworn to uphold the law lied, They broke it, became abusers

Hiding behind charming smiles, spreading venomous rumors

Which grow rapidly on school tiles, as cancerous tumors. 

In this small town of zombies, dead in its soul, 

Many residents flee before the church bell toll

Running to freedom, those who felt helpless-controlled. 

We're in another time, In this small town painted grey

Where Daggers silence you in the night, for the words you say

Speak up and lose your peace, you'll gain new wounds each day.