It started as a fantasy spun off a lack of vanity;   And promised me my sanity like warm satanic sympathy;   Stoned and drank through tragedy, unfocused from fake majesty;   A college of nostalgia flashing back through acid imagery;   The maturation managing constricted in calamity;   In questioning humanity the dream became a mystery;   The history exposing the illusion of a canopy;   To cloth a king from shining on the beauty of our misery;     Continued as a goal, a vanity mixed motivation;   No more satanic sympathy, just selfish, stubborn fury;   From ashes we rise; to ashes one fell from premature cremation;   The newest rib cut off the limb was crutch-like cast to cure me;   The final cut, the holy grail, was within guesstamation;   To persevere, I dignify the ones who came before me;   Embarking on a train of thought that reaked of revelation;   The first to fear, the last to hear, the masses can't ignore me;     But just as all the corners meet, a sharpened edge has frayed;   And life leaks from the forest that we planted years ago;   And now it seems we'd walk the path of dream which he once made;   Apparent is the naked truth in heart we fear to know;   And yes I felt his passion; And it's running through my veins;   And yes I feel his wisdom and I've taken it to grow;   And yes I feel his honor and his dignity and pain;   And no, I'll never lose the love he never failed to show;     But this is life and this is pain; I'll die a cultured man;   The mourning of a hero brings the morning of assurance;   And I'll never mourn commraderie; this brotherhood will stand;   In absolute, it's nothing less than fuel for resurgence;   To finish off the dream I know his character demands;   To transform into brutal strength emotion that is nervous;   And carry out the fortune and the passion in his plans;   To let them know the man beneath the phenom that will surface.