We think about life
We wonder it's reasoning
It's treason's swing-
Swinging by a thread
Surrounding you as you lie awake in your bed
You're too late now, the ghosts come out
Engulfing you and feeding off your doubt
Hopeless, you look for the light
But there is nothing there, nothing in sight
Except for the polite
man, asking you for quarters
All he wants is some empty cash
To afford some waters.
For himself and his daughters
But his face is too honest
Deep inside you know that he just wants an escape.
Some sinful slaughter.

You never think about the other side of the world,
Someone else's shoes, or someone else's blue's.
All thats revolving in your brain
Is the melody of your own laughter,
And you're stuck in your own domain
Trapped or
Chained
Appraising your own pain.

..How do you keep from going insane?