Analytical. Hypocrytical. Will harder to break than rods of steel.
Surreal. Chamomile. The taste of blood like an iron meal.
“What’s her deal?” the whispers echo in the hallway.
Lies as penetrating as a nuclear gamma ray.
Red. All I see are tears of red.
The problems with society echo in my head.
The way the world works can’t help but make you wonder
Why I’m sending out a cry of help as obvious as thunder.
So the superego, your morality will question your insanity
The truth in our savagery escaping through profanity.
It’s the subconscious tiny questions that always keep you nagging
Your so hooked upon the past that your future started sagging.
Always hurrying to swallow but not taking time to chew
Less concerned about your life, more about your revenue.
Trying to see through these hallways of red
The most interesting things are always unsaid.