IT'S A COLD, COLD WORLD

Too hard to go forward to far to go back. I've got my guard lowered, but my instincts are in tact. There are things that be that I can't see, yet some are evident, existing in a cold, cold world just like me, where I can smell death from the field that sits behind Hanson Hill, where Ive seen life taken against ones will, simply for the others thrill, I've seen kids starving, and prostitutes carving each other up to shit in the cup. Women who are more prone to being beat down and disable, than gathering their family to eat around the dinner table. Suffering conviction by society's depiction, a constant daily crucifixion. Unsure of which way to go, can't trust who you know. It's a cold, cold world, about 100 below even without snow.