It's a difficult feat to carve deep
into a soul that's made of stone.

No matter which way
what direction you take
the tools aren't there to break it.

For in this world filled with sponge
and soft mousse minds
I used only the meagre
butter knife

But the knives I used to carve my own
Hacked through with gritted teeth
early, near the break of dawn

Weren't strong enough to carve yours
no matter how hard,
how determined I was
to try.