In my head, I have a chaotic mind.
In my chest, a broken heart.
But aren't all these dark and broken things
the ones that inspire art?

The things I have inside me,
they can build storms and hurricanes.
You think that blood runs through me
but I hide madness in my veins.

My demons dance to the music,
my angels have loved to sing.
To you, it isn't melodic,
to me, it's a beautiful thing.