Who are you that I should follow? Windowless and blue, what a soul of sorrow. Broken minds and fearful angels built this Frankenstein. Sunday's buckled kneel will never heal. So you think that you can be my beam on high? I will never bow so far as to see your sky. Rip apart the only wound I have ever known. Taste the poison from the monk's hooded bloom. One more step, fall to heaven with this on your breath. And be the nobody that you have already confessed.