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First Born

We are the last
of our tribe
of our name
hungry wolves
westward bound
we've shed our locks of love and rage
laying bone-naked in the sun-soaked
liberty of a numb and
desperate minimum wage
I kill without question
it's easier that way
cloaked in thorns
nervously gnawing
on my shame and suffering
trained to kill
everything
what have I done?
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I slit my father's throat
with the knife that he gave to me
and the promise of his throne
what have I become?
I tried to be a man
I cover my skin
with paint and blood
and kill upon command
what have I done?
my mind is my tomb
I've given my thone to my next of kin
as I wait here in my room
I want to evolve
I'll suffer in secret it's easier that way
it's easier that way