I am that which is a non-entity,
I can feel naught but emnity.
I can do naught but fail,
I can see naught but the pale-
washed out colours of my life.
I am forever doomed to be,
A vessel for all but me.
My mother relives her times,
Through my flesh and through my eyes.
So my failue is my strife.
I think I am about to crack,
Everybody has the knack.
Of driving all that's sane away,
This is a game I cannot play-
And so I hide behind a knife.
My life,
My strife,
Relief,
My knife.
I am that which is a non-entity, I can feel naught but emnity. I can do naught but fail, I can see naught but the pale- washed out colours of my life. I am forever doomed to be, A vessel for all but me. My mother relives her times, Through my flesh and through my eyes. So my failue is my strife. I think I am about to crack, Everybody has the knack. Of driving all that's sane away, This is a game I cannot play- And so I hide behind a knife. My life, My strife, Relief, My knife.
