Shaped by everything you touch.
Your interior is hollow of wire and veins because you're built like a machine.
But you're vision is scqewed and it's just like you to refused to see the beauty of others effortlessly.
And it controls everything.
And you have nothing for yourself to gain.
And it takes more to life to live, to get it right.
And this operatic notion that I fix emotion.
It's a bit of a stretch and if it works it's in your head.
And you'll tease you'll soul with others in control.
And you'll tease you'll soul with others in control.
And you'll tease you'll soul with others in control.
And I have faith and I have faith in you.
In the backroom a notebook screams in silence swallowed by dust hiding it's violet cover.
And there it will remain until your soul remerses again.