Blood shed in the name of white picket fences The doctor's daughter and the lawyer's son breathe air bleached with poison that sucks back at their lungs. Polluted smiled, razor grins that preach the status quo like gospel through thick pipe smoke to muddy the facts and see nothing but perfection there.
Right angled lies of smiles and glee lick'd onto each face, souls siphoned through eyes of children in corners who need more from their lives. But all's made from a plan and dad holds the recipe for your life and his so cut off those corners and sand down your flaws.
Because this is normal, and it doesn't hurt much. Conformity's human and the right thing to do. And we all stepped together. How could it be wrong?