Withering and as ugly as sin
What's right or wrong
Who am I to tell?
This dreadful sight
This atrophied body
It is me, lying on the ground
Needless flowers of speech
I cannot endure this shape
Needless flowers of speech
But they can't see inside of me
My own mind...
My mind is my prison
I have lost touch with reality
Mental breakdown: the insight, then the fall
And now deadness is ubiquitous
They dissect me without understanding
...Only a disease
Not a human being
Needless flowers of speech
I cannot endure this shape
Needless flowers of speech
But they can't see inside of me
My own mind...
My mind is my prison
I have lost touch with reality
I can resist my inner demons
I drown in the sea of forgiveness
But somehow I die with thirst
My own mind...
My mind is my prison
I have lost touch with reality
My own mind...
My mind is my prison
I have lost touch with reality
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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