
Old Floridian parchment
Written histories upon ink stains
How to think within today’s tragedies
Wondering how any sanity can remain
We try to build ourselves back up
When the world tears itself down
The ruckus in the middle of silence
The tears when you can’t quite frown
Truth isn’t worth what it used to be
Righteousness has overtaken the price
We struggle to exist without persecution
They’re coming for you, even if we play nice