The self-inflicted state of mind
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A one-man struggle beneath the tower
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I think the clock still exist
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god just forgot to tap my shoulder
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I woke up today
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I wish I felt something
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The odour of my apathy
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just might be true
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I wan´t to be the things I see
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The pilgrim that is me
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But I know I ain´t that free
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The suburban me
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Spirits rise and miss the eye
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Covered by the stench of judgment
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As gods reflection test my pride
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I serve the failure that´s haunting me
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Twisted visions toturing
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Who claims to be the one?
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That filtered smile
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just might be true
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"On half-speed, tonight I suffer
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Satisfaction brings the unheeded"
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Can you hear the message,
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as I wrestle with the clouds?
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I´m on the way to succumb,
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It just might be true
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-----------------
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suburban me
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| In Flames |
