Bound by substance, controlled by fate,
Every step forward, I feel I am late
I profess my sins, I clean my slate
Why is this pretense, always on my plate?
Even if it’s just, even for a cause
I blend my senses, I create a pause
I spawn an illusion, I paint myself an art
I let go of reality, taking it all apart…
There’s no direction, I swing here & there
I feel the end is coming, it’s all nude & bare
No point, I feel, or I don’t think I care
Too much, I know, no more thoughts to spare…
I find myself exhausted, I dug myself a grave
I don’t feel am human, a human not so brave…