|
The path I set out on took a turn |
|
when the axis shifted |
|
This is not the life I envisioned |
|
What's done is done |
|
The crime is committed |
|
Now the beast has come home to roost |
|
He returns with blood on his hands |
|
Caught in the trap of meeting |
|
the laws of supply and reprimand |
|
My blood is boiling. |
|
I can't feel my own skin |
|
Though I can see it crawling |
|
Can't expose all these sins |
|
But I can see them falling down. |
|
There's no escape from building tension |
|
The pressure valve has been refitted |
|
A lost plot in constant revision |
|
A rising storm that's never abated |
|
You can't know enough 'til too much |
|
The envelope is decimated |
|
Too far gone now to reverse my course and be subjugated |
|
And my blood keeps boiling. |
|
This is a labour of hate. |
|
This is how I choose to survive |
|
The only way I know to exist |
|
The road is hard and the cost is high |
|
But I was built for this, |
|
My labor of hate. |
