cringing, staring into the eyes of the villian bathed in black
yet not so sinister as the sympaythy they lack
they have me shackled here, you see
cutting off all circulation to my feet
the villian stabs forth his unwavering gavel
the pointer on my hand canot help but travel
to the perpetrator I loathe the most
slowly spinning down the neverending slope
I've gone a little mad, you see
for my greatest enemy here is me
so on this hollow banister I shall remain
my judgement awaits me bathed in black above his domain
my pupils shrink at the women bathed in white
how peculiar they'll think, she's lost her sight
I pray to my wishmaker, kill them, slay the sirens
that Lucifer's darkest punishment may befall my tyrant
my knuckles have gone white, it seems
not so different from the color of those who tear my seams
I stab into the blank beckoning slab
demanding of my the day I became trapped
by this stomach acid pink colored thickening cloud
foam gushing from my betrayed gnarled mouth
I've grown slightly confused, you see
from the salty tears that somehow escaped form me
I cannot fathom the continuous spinning
cannot wonder how they have augmented my new beginning
I have not the time here, do you not see?
what betrayal! my wishmaker, what have they done to me?
I tremble within the warm embrace
of the heart which stole mine from Earth's very face
oh pale siren, what have you done to me?
could this be what those fools call serenity?
We're all a little mad here, you see
Completely mad, you see
How strange, it seems, the similarities between the paths of love and insanity