what crime is worth the signature - right   what lie is worth the sacrifice   of knowing you are true to yourself   of holding in a truce this our time in life      I stand before the shell of memory   To force remembrance through mortality   I trust the hand that holds no life   In death we find demands -   trust in death seems our one true right      In death we hold subjective memories   In life we make our name in forgery   What's it worth to live in mocked reality?   What's life if yours is form - indignity?