Give me some time to lick my wounds After grueling race I stand where I stood Lay your healing grace on the bleeding face Step aside me now, it never comes too late
The secret voices coming out from nowhere Coincidentical odd choices drag me out in despair Don’t blend my forehead with the mark of a loser But sometimes I feel like it has been done to me
Facing the silence we come to contradiction Limited way of thinking spread seeds of illusions Don’t blend my forehead with the mark of losers But sometimes I feel like it has been done to me...
It’s done to me it’s done to you It’s done to all to heal the soul It’s done to me done to all But Dante knew what is to fall
Something awful grows inside Penetrates and drills my mind Poison rips thru me Splashing me all over... ...every sudden lucky gift of fate used to take for granted...