Jun 2015
Rage and rage inside my mind.
This ugly thing inside my head,
Black as crow and apple red,
Grows and spreads like mold on bread.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
It smells of rot and lack of care,
But in the mirror; breath of air.
I must be real, I'm standing there.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
Guilty, puncture; made of blood.
My song is this, too often sung.
My strand of fate was never strung.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
This ugly thing inside my head,
Black as crow and apple red,
Grows and spreads like mold on bread.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
It smells of rot and lack of care,
But in the mirror; breath of air.
I must be real, I'm standing there.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
Guilty, puncture; made of blood.
My song is this, too often sung.
My strand of fate was never strung.
Rage and rage inside my mind.
