49 acessos
Jesus christ, i might as well be dead
I can't see how dangerous
It must feel to me
Training human cogs for the machine
Without some shell-shocked lunatic like me
Bombarding their still soft shells
With sticks and stones
That were lying around
In the pile of unspeakable feelings i'd found
When i turned back the stone
Turned over the stone
Of my own disappointment back home