what kind of life would you dream for a millstone Nothing sublime like a diamond of gemstone Just a big mess just a rock crushing things in its way Round and round I keep crushing things day after day It's understandable that I would .... out this way Pressure ... everything when I am turning Squeezing and crushing and breaking and burning what kind of stone am I anyway why should I care once I had feelings inside of me now nothing's there why should I think that there ought to be anything there
I feel nothing Dead as the things I'm crushing I feel nothing though I faintly recall before I felt something but not anymore
...a statue is standing carved out of marble completely commanding Everyone pauses to feast on its beauty and grace why couldn't I have been carved so I'd fit in that place there is no beauty inside me that one could embrace
I feel nothing Dead as the things I'm crushing I feel nothing though I faintly recall before I felt something but not anymore