i wouldnt know whats under my skin
its funny
when you think about it
i thought i knew myself so well
like the back of my hand
but to be honest
i couldnt tell the back of my hand from anyone elses
i couldnt tell my face apart from the crowd
i couldnt tell myself that im something new
i keep on losing myself again and again
it cant ever end
ill keep on drifting, pale as a spector and eyes like flat stones
with a heart of coal that keeps burning blacker and chars my breath with its smoke
soon it will run out
and then when death invites me with sweet embrace
maybe they'll notice me as i lay still in the coffin
for the first time, i wont be such a ghost
for the first time
ill be me
maybe then ill know whats under my skin