I spent 13 years building a brick wall around myself
3 years building a bombproof shelter
I even added windows
To see the outside world.

But I forgot the fire exit
And now the fire's lit
The smoke is filling up my mind
Burning all of me.

Gone is the (com)passion
Gone the creativity
Gone the personality
Just bitter memories in their fireproof box.

Even as I build the bomb shelter
I scream for a way out
Searching for a weakness in the wall
That isn't there.

At least I painted the outside
Simple, bland, attractive
In universal white
So good, nice, boring.

Oh look, I'm stuck in the only corner left
Holding tattered fragments of burnt personality
Waiting for the fire to burn
Me up.