Screaming, tumbling, pounding, drumming,
Drowning in the great ‘What if’
An action, a word, a time, a place
A death, new life, a pretty face

Each person has a great ‘What if’
One thing that changed it all,
We think its harmless,
This great ‘What if’
It has deceived us all

If only we could see the snare within,
The snare within the great ‘What if’
Made to torment, not to please,
Made by sadistic, malicious means

The snare was made with ingenious design
To **** the soul and wreck the mind,
No mercy, or hope of any kind.

This evil mind, to who belongs?
This thing with honor of the hogs,
Its no surprise, it seems to be,
This wicked knave, belongs to me