Fragments and memories
of the natter of my movin’ flesh,
I’m a bone-trap, a skull-cage, where
mind was wrapped and will be wasted.
They always find me when they need me,
but now they turn away from me,
they deny, deny, deny and smile,
I’m wrong butwon’t be told me why.
Why do they free me again?
I would rather free myself.
Perfect - I gotta be perfect all the way
as they always say,
the right word in the right place,
smiling, so much hatred inside.
They’re surface - yes, they are.
They hate me - I know they hate,
so what should I toletare? |
