Torn away, lifeless and cut to th quick. Beaten down, bleeding, and dying, and sick.
I stand on the edge, just a few more feet to go. I'm walking away. That is never again my home.
I'll cut all ties just as soon as I can call. I'll stand here awhile as long as I can, until I fall.
I'll never concede, if I die a beggar in the street. I'll never release the grasp I've got on this feat.
This is my thing. No one will take this away. I may be back just to rub it in everyone's face.
Then I'm gone again, might not be back for awhile. Might be a long time further before I can bring myself to smile.
I'm so tired now, I don't know where to turn. I'm so angry now, I'm consumed inside with this burn.
I can feel the rage each time I allow me to linger. Can't seem to turn the page on this thing that triggered my anger.
Like a wild beast, insanity enters my head in the form of irresponsibilities that can't be seen and mus'nt be said.
Though there are things that exist now and certainly will then. And after I've calmed down, things will happen just as I say, just as I plan.
There will be no arguments. There will be no dissent. There will only be conformity when I say where and when.
So keep your mouth shut, and back away real slow. 'Cause I'm not sure how I feel, but you don't 'wanna' know!
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