If you hear God’s voice, does that make you schizophrenic?
And if life seems to be, too powerfully sad, does that give you the right to end it?
And when you feel like you are alone, do you allow your heart to turn stone?
And when you make mistakes, do you let that define you…
And when you cry because of your own bullets, is that a form of suicide?
And when you aren’t taught what is essential,
How do you continue with the instrumental, being sticks and padding.
Cheap thread and worn linen, makes up my bed, trying to play the cards a little better.
A little more clever.
Knowing you are just better off not here, because I am imperfect, but I desire to be perfect.
Is that desire enough?
Or have I already failed your test, and am I destined for hell…
Release this spell.
I want to yell!
Can’t you tell, I am a lion in jail!
Chained, tamed, and wanting to do well.