Old friend, I've just killed a man
painted my spirit ****** red, cut the cord now it's dead

Oh adios dear friends, it's the final half of the show
the Thin White Joke is here and now it's time to go

desperation lingers, unwanted and with regret
I'm sure with time I will forget
but I look at the flowers, unfeeling but born to be free
holding against the tide, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
born just to be

what have I done, destroying my only ally
leaving this carapace wounded and fragile
I'm standing against the tide, simply
created not to live but to survive

what's the point in this world
born to suffer
with your ghastly grace
you smother;
homeless eat from bins
the wealthy flounder in their sins
morality bruised battered swollen
dwelling in the void where hope is woven

I cannot see what I cannot forget
a society sickened and upset
bouncing flouncing to the point of no return
in their graves the unholy turn

and turn -

and turn -

So do you think you can lean and spit in my eyes?
You think you can tarnish me with your pathetic lies?
Oh lady, sweet sweet lady -

I was born to be alive
I was born to hurt
I was born to sin and look up skirts
I'm a man, I'm a man
can't you see I'm on the edge
of psychopathic health and sweet nothingness

the birds are there to fly
tears made just to cry
one caring/hatred abomination
jackhammering from station to station

I care not what you think
nor what you say
infact I care not for you in any way -

the flowers were born uncaring and free
but now the world lags, cut
finally -
finally it no longer matters to me.