Will I be, forever, a fearmonger's slave?
Such heartfelt complacence leaves little to crave

My will has defected as memories fade
Synapses are failing, my conscience was played

I'll **** that whole bottle and wake up the same
I live for the shameful, and pass off the blame

Without my intention, I float through this earth
I loathe this perception, yet had it since birth

How long must I live with these demons of old?
My soul, it has seemed, to the Devil, been sold

There's no doubt, by reason, my reason's in doubt
It seems I have chosen my conscience to rout...