Maybe it's in my genes,just like my favorite scenes
a garden of withered lillies,elegance and tea,
and I'm just a bit less sober to be chosen to see.

A cup of red wine,to drown my pain
when they treat me like swine
and call me insane.
And from all these facts,where is my gain?

Mother,you said I'd be the death of you
but smoke caught you first,too bad
but still true.

Father,you said I'm riding to hell.I'm
here to tell you that I've been there
and I didn't burn,I'm physically well.

My meadows are not green,
they are pale like my skin.
My heart doesn't beat,at
least in a way balanced and neat.

Oh!Why I'm here?
In this barren age of living and sense.
Why can't I hear
the mysterious thirst I am so forced to quense.

A sign to show me that there is justice unseen,
blades in my throat.
But everything and everyone is corrupted within.
Shall I give up my hope,offered as a lamb or a goat.

Sacrifised to the altar of the inert in soul.
Oh!Should I stand strong...
or in my darkness do I have to fall?

Oh,well..it seems that

these minor things managed to obscure my dreams

Oh,well..it seems that

these minor things managed to silence my screams.