| Running blind and out of breath | |
| But in the wrong direction | |
| I don't recall or recognize | |
| My own reflection | |
| Locked myself in a cell | |
| I can't breach | |
| My key to sovereignty lies just out of reach | |
| Can't set myself free: | |
| Can't seem to keep down my last meal | |
| Can't turn back the hand | |
| I deal Feel like | |
| I'm caught in foreign land | |
| Exiled by my gavel hand | |
| A rat in a cage | |
| I'm spinning the wheel | |
| But getting nowhere | |
| The gallows -- my stage | |
| I'm seen by all | |
| Performing to no one | |
| This could have been my finest day | |
| A drug that expends me; the price that | |
| I pay Can't throw it away: | |
| Can't seem to keep down my last meal | |
| Can't turn back the hand | |
| I deal Feel like | |
| I'm caught in foreign land | |
| Exiled by my gavel hand | |
| The cage that | |
| I'm in is formed | |
| From my own design: | |
| No way out that | |
| I can tell | |
| Stay here forever trapped | |
| Inside my own mind: | |
| I know every corner so well | |
| And I fear that when | |
| I finally find the will | |
| The atrophy will keep me lying still | |
| But I'm tired of the darkness | |
| And I'm tired of the smell | |
| But I'm torn; | |
| I don't know anything else | |
| And I'm tired of the nighttime | |
| And I long for the day | |
| But I'm torn; | |
| I don't know another way | |
| Running blind, out of breath | |
| Spinning the wheel | |
| But getting nowhere: |
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