Beyond the exoskeleton of labels and cliches
Resides a room without a door in the fabric of decay
Within the ragged corridors of self-loathing and fear
Where the person that we never want to be is drawing near
With every lie we tell ourselves and every step we fake
With every time we sell ourselves for less than what's at stake
Each time we find our future is the past we left behind
Each time we find a minute's peace has cost us peace of mind
The times the living disease becomes the disase of the living
The times we find that taking becomes easier than giving
When we find that serving self becomes the same as serving time
When we ****** someone's trust and truly cannot see the crime
Each time we find our highs can be the lowest points of all
Each time we're not quite home without our backs against the wall
When smiling and laughter are the maddest times of all
When the calm before the storm becomes the walk before the crawl
The person that we never want to be begins to dwell
In the room without a door in our mental labrynth cell
Dragging ragged fingernails across the coffin walls
Slowly breaking free from deep within the one who falls
The battle thus ensues between what is and what's to be
The tortured and the ******, both demanding to be free
Both manipulating and invading at each turn
Such hell as now both sanity and soul begin to burn
And from the silent corner, watching all without a word
Chaotically and sweetly biding time, there comes a third
Eagerly awaiting as each tears the other down
Clutching for the purchase which will cause the soul to drown
Dominating all the rotting conscious have become
The destroyer, come to permenantly bleed out beyond numb
To the victor go the spoils of the spoiled, weary heart
In this dance of such a red, chaotic schizophrenic art
To honor, shame, or tragedy...where will your last breath lead
It all depends upon which dying fire you choose to feed