A chain of controversial versions of myself in a war;
It throws me back into this moment I use to call "I don't know what I'm doing"
One like me searches the perfect golden *** that is always around the corner.
What a big fancy house! Next minute it turns into dust
It makes me weaker every frustated trial, but you see... it's a circle
Suddenly I'm back surrounding the prize. God! excitement
Fantasy, shame on it!
I know what really makes you who you are, who you think you are. It says to me.
You need to set your darkness free, it will eat you up
Should I let the beast out?
Why do I keep locking it in if its only intent is cutting pieces of me, giving them to the hungry outsiders?
The answers are here, but I can't find them
I bet it'is because of your moral rules, my submission to your covered decent laws
Fantasy, shame on it!
Little monster go sponging another host.