Thursday, August 23, 2007

Relate

Try to understand this psycho within me
Because someday we all need to break free
Where is the light at the end of the tunnel?
Come to the sands on the lake running dry

Whatever freedom I was taught to believe in
Is but a shadow of the slavery that exists
The mirror maybe cracked but it still shows me
And then again my reflection may not be real

The guitar without strings in the far corner
Sounds of silence being strummed in the wind
My thoughts are trying to run into chaos
Murdering my mind is the only way out

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