I can't feel my spirit.
This body is so strange to me.
Slipping through the subway grates,
My flesh dissolves into plastic seats.
I feel no difference between it and me.
Work my fingers across my face,
To see if I am still there.

Vanishing and appearing in the reflection again,
I don't identify with that thing that I am.
It feels like I am separate from it,
It feels like I don't belong in it.
No longer a temple,
No longer a place for a spirit.

One great big seductive neon distraction,
Convincing us into buying:

L-shaped couches,
Makeup kits,
Brand new cars
and television sets.

I work for freedom and pay for slavery.
The things I own I've become.
**** it all, who needs freedom?

This death won't be my last,
I've been here before.
The serpent tempts me to eat the apple,
Null it down to the core.

Going back to my original sin.
I am going back down again.