I have the feeling this feedback is washing me off any identity Loosening up the safety bolts screwed down my very self Barricades falling one by one No longer an actor, just a mere bystander straying
I have no doubt you breached my spirit I loose the grasp of my string of thoughts
A cloud of shouts clashes through my ears These wordings, so strange, incantations boiling out my fluids All I can comprehend is my soul is softening Beaten by the brazenness of their tongues Gutted, ethereal and distilled, I’m their tiny delicacy
Pummeling my skull with a brutal infancy I develop compassion for your condition So devoided of any substance yet explicit Is this the genesis of your doctrine?
These cumming spongers takes control As I’m becoming nothing more than a blueprint
I loose the grasp of my string of thoughts
Why should I follow you if only for the high you’re giving me Let me cut short and call a spade a spade This is preselitysm
Learn who you are, hysteria stricken mime Run away from this place, my child