A busy town that never stays quiet
Their obnoxious words ring through the streets
It cannot sympathize, it will not sympathize
The crow only cares about itself
Cruelty's a joke, and identity is worthless to it
Cast out by outcasts, the crow flies away
Perching itself on the rooftop of an asylum
It's beak swears to drill through this town
There's no such thing as thriving
With a torch in it's wing, the crow takes off
Setting fire to the flowers below it
There is nothing it doesn't find obnoxious
At least, nothing here
Smoke strikes the sky, and the people scream
Their lives, their focuses, their philosophies
Torn down by a creature without restriction
No rules, no laws, no expression
The crow can only feel anger at the world who rejected it
Such a bitter bird it is
The roads flood with frenzied masses
See how they scramble for their lives
A harsh laugh rings throughout that lowly town
With a deep breath, the crow takes off again
Flying against the edge of a knife
Surely, surely this world will fall to it's will
In it's dreams, the crow will fantasize
It will imagine a world it can tear down
And one day, when the crow is at it's weakest
It's dreams will come true