Part of me is engulfed with silenced sin.
And when I want to shed my heart, all I do is hide in my skin.
The pen won't release its ink, reflecting what I feel within.
Rusty thoughts feast on my life, a trial made of tin.
So I don't want to speak right now, I would only like to write.
Humanity feels bleak to me because it's never been right.
And to delve deeply within the depths of my undying plight,
I'm never correct in anything, I lack divine sight
And as we fly forever past my angst and through my mind,
We'll find on this endeavor that the truth isn't kind.
I wish I wasn't myself, in a time booth filled with time.
I don't want to lend my mind and soul to the upkeep of mankind.
I beg of you, teach me how to do it like you, please.
I've reached the color where I can't handle these responsibilities.
I'm not the sort of dog that is bred to succeed.
In the double helix fog, you'll see that that's a seed.
In the map of my mind, there's a hole in the middle.
Even with the gap of time, I still feel belittled.
There's no love for him to give, said the cynical riddle.
Couldn't I be played out like a zombie? piped the ridiculous fiddle.
To take care of a dime as pretty as this,
I'm going to have to forgive, love, and forget...
