| 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! |