How can you say death was given!
To nurse the antithesis of the ego with my own blood
To suffer the same fate as anything I can arrange mid-synapse
Like some kid playing with a cat's cradle between my hands...

How can you say such terrible things were a gift to mankind!
From the depths of wretched cancer rise the dear and departed
Here for a nestled moment
But in phases of reality
We've built a house of classic treasures
Where only the insane sleep outside
On the grass, call them in, but why?

They like the rain
(we are all insane)

And how can you call it a gift?
From the gory sea of wrath relief is providence
For just this certain thing that was true. But can we call it
An advancement?
To sink into this ****** sea, never to dream again?

Yes, we can, because we look around and we see faces of ourselves
And we know that even the deepest pulls from our goodness
Turn about a gloriously dark and evil shadow
And we can tell that our deepest desire to rectify...
Is a one-shot ****, perfectly eclipsed in its entirety.