Lyrics:
The self-inflicted state of mindA one-man struggle beneath the towerI think the clock still existgod just forgot to tap my shoulderI woke up todayI wish I felt somethingThe odour of my apathyjust might be trueI wan't to be the things I seeThe pilgrim that is meBut I know I ain't that freeThe suburban meSpirits rise and miss the eyeCovered by the stench of judgmentAs gods reflection test my prideI serve the failure that's haunting meTwisted visions toturingWho claims to be the one?That filtered smilejust might be true'On half-speed, tonight I sufferSatisfaction brings the unheeded'Can you hear the message,as I wrestle with the clouds?I'm on the way to succumb,It just might be true