Shame
The Blood Brothers Lyrics

My heart is a black haunted loom, Weaving jackets for children who'll never be born.
My heart is filled with darkness, constantly creating tangible reminders of the children who will never exist, and the lives they will never live.

My hands are abandoned factories Manufacturing heartbreak and hate for the world.
My hands are idle, but they continue to produce negativity and pain for the world, as if they were machines in a factory.

As we waltz the broken dance of our limbs This ballroom has been groped by so many evil whims.
We move clumsily and without harmony, as if in a dance that has been shaped by wicked influences and sinister intentions.

As I drill the last hole into you, The well of your body has hardened into glue.
As I inflict damage upon you, you become more rigid and unyielding, as if your body is being set in place forever.

Everything is going to be just awful when we're around. All the colors gonna rot off your sight when we're around.
Our presence will bring ruin and desolation, turning everything dark and bland, and stripping away all vibrancy and color.

I remember the day that I sold my smile to that nice couple Who lost their first child.
I recall the moment when I abandoned my capacity to express joy, in order to deceive a couple who were grieving the loss of their child.

I threw in a set of sympathy, And a bucket of popcorn for the cemetary.
I added some false compassion and a useless item to the transaction, as if they could somehow make up for the fact that I was exploiting the couple's tragedy.

But now my face is all fenced off, the sky is boarded up, The hills covered in drop cloth.
Now I am isolated and unable to express my emotions, as if my face were surrounded by a barrier. The world around me seems drab and lifeless, as if it were covered by a sheet.

How many chords till this song vomits out real love? How many feathers to pluck naked the soiled dove?
How many attempts will it take to express genuine feelings in this song? How many layers will have to be removed to uncover the truth about a corrupted figure?

How many whores till you send away for that trophy? And how many punches till you give yourself away for free?
How many times will you dehumanize others in your pursuit of status and recognition? How many times will you sacrifice your own worth and dignity just to please someone else?

Because those bruises on your gace look like the sun setting in disgrace. (From these cliffs you can see the whole city Laid out groveling like a field of wounded soldiers. The billboards in heat and hissing, The sky scrapers stitching the gash of the earth. As they waltz the broken dance of their limbs Their ballroom has been groped by so many evil whims.)
Your injuries are a symbol of your defeat and humiliation, like the defeat of a powerful entity that is now obsolete. From this vantage point, the entire city seems vulnerable and wounded, scarred by the ways in which people have pursued their own interests without regard for others and without recognition of the consequences.

Everything is going to be just awful when we're around. All the colors gonna rot off your sight when we're around.
The presence of our group will bring devastation and ruin to those who come into contact with us, robbing everything around us of life and joy.

I am just a salesman pleased to meet you can I show you around. Every thing must go the shadows the seagulls when we're around.
I present myself as a friendly and helpful person, but in reality, everything around us is subject to destruction and decline, from the most mundane objects to the birds in the sky.

This is our shame.
All of these aspects of our lives, including our grief, anger, and isolation, are embodiments of our collective shame.