Everyone seems to be happy,
Happy and satisfied,
Living a pretty life
Under the roof, of a pretty house.
A house made of fears
Huge chains and burned dreams,
That glows on the outside;
Golden mirrors, diamond walls.
It is so pretty, that house,
Like a magnet it catches your eyes,
It pulls you close, it leaves you out
As you stay in awe from the sight
Of what you see, but not what’s inside!
Ah, how you would wish to have
A house that shines bright like that,
That catches the insects eyes;
All staring at you, all satisfied!
Except you, alone in your room
Creeping behind the golden bars
Watching those that stare at you
With pain in your chest, and a retarded smile.
How wonderful would it be
To live in that ruined house.
To writhe in pain and agony
Only to entertain, to satisfy
The creepy eyes, those creepy eyes…