I MAY FOREVER-NEVER BE STILL
FOR MY MIND ALWAYS IN SPILL
FOR UNDERNEATH THE CALM CHARADE...
THERE IS MOUNTAIN OF FEAR THAT TAKES OVER THE FAKE FACADE...
EYES BETRAY THE SOUL
STRENGTH TAKES A TOLL
NOT LETTING THE LION INSIDE ME GROWL.
MY MOM ASKS ME...
\"WHAT ARE YOU WRINGING YOUR HANDS FOR?\'
WELL, ITS HARD TO REASON...
FOR IT IS ALWAYS THE ANXIETY SEASON.
\"ITS ALL IN YOUR HEAD\" YOU SAY.
WELL, EXPLAIN THAT TO THE PAIN IN MY NERVES AND FURIOUS OF MY KNEES
OR TO THE CREEPS IN MY MIND OR TO THE UNEXPLAINED WEEPS.
OBJECTS MAY SHAKE OR SPILL,
TREMBLING THOUGHTS STREAM BEYOND MY WILL.
MY ARMS ARE NOT MY OWN.
NOR IS THE CONFIDENCE SHOWN.
THE SIMPLE TASKS OF DAILY LIFE....
APPEAR AS A MOUNTAIN STEEP...
AS COLD FINGERS OF A DEAD SOUL GRIPS MY HEART ...
EVERY NIGHT I AM ROBBED OF MY SLEEP....