Your thoughts are simple You scream it out Your expression is grim you Dont have to be loud But one day is coming You just can't avoid Your thougts get assuming Your fingers adroit
muscles reaching the line of pain sending memories in holy brain your own deception appears as true paves the way for the absent clue
You build a weapon-thing that should free your mind So that would grow two wings On your own behind
In the margin of madness You don't realize That things are blest Which you criticize That the world is colorful Which you see in grey And the men aren't cruel That you see every day