existing in a world without control
I never asked for this
yet somehow hanging on I dwindel.

reality of my situation
I never asked for this
a world without control
hanging by this thread I dwindel.

peace is simple understanding
perfection would be
slowly, quietly, comfortably fading into nothingness.
And life is never perfect.
understand me

I have no anger for my sorrow
no passion for my pain
as I will to lose my will
and no longer feel insane.

can't you utter in the dark to yourself
like a madman speaks of horror
I speak inside my sacraficial burdon
I utter madmans words in bleak confessions

as I hear the roaring of the self diluting drums
as I feel the numbing power of the drugs
and as I see myself slipping ever more
I walk closer to the answer than before
once you lose the will to live
the will to care or be cooperative
you are free.

In a world without control
I am not controlled
my self destructive passion
diluting me am fading soberly
no passion for my pain
I have no lust for burdon