The Means Songtext
von Pineid

You think that it′s that you have not enough when
Not enough in yourself have I taught you to see
You'll flail freed and formless absorbed in an ocean
Doubt all that you grasp for but me

Wield, deny, the tools mark your hands
Parade what I give you your work becomes mine


Wield, deny, the tools mark your hands
Parade what I give you your work becomes mine

The task for happy renders self satisfaction
For vanity your mouth split your defenses wide
Insecurity the anchor of ruin
Adorned as a virtue what′s held to the fire

Traps for the sentimental and open-minded
Traps for good listeners and imbeciles alike

Wield, deny, the tools mark your hands
Parade what I give you your work becomes mine