NowHere - Dead Culture lyrics

What kind of culture are we When it's the hungry feeding the starving The dying helping the dead The upset counseling the depressed? This is world is coming to an end, I guess I can lend a helping hand even if I'm missing fingers But I've witnessed people bear arms before they reach out, figures And mankind usually isn't We learn to survive with the life that we're given And we usually give up before we give back It's the ethics that we lack And the fact that we never listen Even if we're Talking our own conscience up on top of a steep building We don't know what to tell our self esteem So he leaps and it k**s him, but He can't die on impact if he never made one Or of a heart attack if he never showed love And hopefully you have once because I know I have twice Used to fall on my own knife to fight the fear of blood And twist it clockwise because hard times are realistic And still no one listens, I'm asking why But to me, nobody is telling Why would this backwards both logic and spelling It's like casting spells and praying within the same sentence I'm life-sentencing myself away from the senseless The way I grab [?] of the compelling So I push myself to be alone As the hope come and goes like the ever blowing ghost of acceptance The wealthy hung by a f**ing rope I'm hanging by a thread Go ahead and pull it See what unravels me next My ride will survive [?] I'm trying to keep my breath Because I already lost my faith I'm ready to chase the red-faced demon, they say What if God was one of us But what if the Devil was in the same body? What if I told you that body was yours? Would you embody the fact that your reliable source is unknown and scriptures have been whispered, misheard like a bad game of telephone? Everybody likes to talk, but not everyone wants to listen Turns the [?] into a fire starter And a work of fiction turns the world into a place of fear and conviction Where everyone's a convict that sticks to their strict version of jurisdiction And I can see the [?] slam in the way that you look at me As you dissect and decide if I'm street smart or just street Got me feeling like a bum and I'm bummed out, certainly Certain things are best left unsaid Certain things are best left dying Dying is the only thing [?] as a whole When [?] brain grow nothing but mold And nothing but gray matter And nothing matters but nothing is cold In the dead culture of us [?]