| I feel so outside, of the realms of the stitching. | |
| So very inside, arms frailing and kicking | |
| Symbolically | |
| I'm taking hold | |
| Harmonically my soul is sold to me | |
| I was the highest bidder, dripping blood on the dark side | |
| In my veins not a quitter. | |
| First and second and third person | |
| First and second and third person! | |
| Once seemed like mountains, proceed to the fountains | |
| Of the angriest youth, you could ever imagine.7300 sunsets have passed since we last tapped that fountain | |
| That mountain of anger has grown a brain with thought, and reason. | |
| No better sight than before my eyes. | |
| It's as though history repeats itself.again. | |
| Much different this time | |
| Better form, better fitting. | |
| An angle from up high, born when | |
| I first listen. | |
| Historically it has been told, harmonically your soul is sold to old. | |
| I was the highest bidder, dripping blood on the dark side | |
| In my veins not a quitter | |
| First and second, and third person | |
| First and second and third person! |
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