Sin7ven - What Am I | Текст песни

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• Sin7ven
• What Am I

[Verse 1]
Between the roof and reality
An artist who's trapped in the mood of a rabid beast
Only release from the creature within
Is creating, paintings with features as grim

Standing around all day working his craft
With his brushes and ink turning mercy to wrath
Surely this had to be the door to perfection
He though feeding more in to his horrid obsession

Grown used to ignoring objections
The more he would work the more he would progress and
He had to create, to master the paint
All before he was sectioned or slashing his veins

But every time he'd improve he would hate it
To notice mistakes where he'd thought he was great, sick
Impatient, the illustrations, still too basic
Erase it, the frustration building to hatred

[Verse 2]
Unable to tell if there's a train, if he missed it
Or even if his destination existed
Is there even a thing as perfection
Or has he spent his time missing directions?

All these questions demanded and answer
He flipped out, screamed outlandish in anger
Could it be that his work was a lie
And his fate was to suffer and worthlessly die

The man cursed at the earth and sky
If they even exist, if the world is alive
(What am I?) Suddenly his shouting had ceased
And the corpse of the artist fell down on the street

The writer had grown bored thinking this text
Thought that the man would be more interesting dead
But now there aren't many things to be said
Was a matter of time 'til the prince would collect

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