Satan sleeps inside my brain and when he wakes he takes me far away. He takes me to this place, that I completely hate, where I'm a prisoner in my own body. I cannot escape, I'm just a rat in a maze, and he sleeps less and less with the the days coming. So I beg and beg, crawling on my knees, "depart from me." But He won't.
The ocean isn't any louder while the city sleeps.
We just aren't there to wash it out when were occupied with dreams.
A good friend once told me that "darkness only confirms what we cannot see."
Well I sunk underground and I'm laughing now because I finally understand what it means.
This is me, this is my disease.
So take your mud and water and please let me see.
I do not know what I believe.
But if you really Loved me, you'd set me free.
I need to know I can but when I let my head fall, I see I'm walking on nothing but clay.
I need to leave you behind, conduct a cut and run, just like my father before me.
You little serpent, little cancer, little poison, little death. You are my worst at its best.
You are a dirty dog in this field of flowers. What is a thief to do with nothing left to steal?
There's a war inside my head, a brilliant display of death.
Even with the chemicals gone, there's still blood everywhere.
A friend says "send yourself back home, and heal your deepest wounds.
And if the scars they leave can't be ignored, remember none of this is real."
What a simple solution to prescribe when you aren't haunted like house.
You could perch the universe atop my shoulders, it wouldn't even cast a shadow now.
I've got a mountain to move.