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I can see, beyond my fist,
but i can't touch beyond my grip.
Depressing, figuring the truths of this world
Dunked into a black abyss, spun into a swirl.
Reaching for the sun, but cut off at the boundry,
Wishing, i could just fly off into the sky sea.
Down on my last, upon white grass,
but it might as well black since i can't see beyond the glass.
The glass, of the breaking point and spirit hologram,
Starin' at the lunar, thinkin' like damn.
But it's too far, no way on black tar
will i be able to able to step, and come to where you are.
Maybe my heart stopped pumping. Maybe it's standing still
Maybe that's why i can't figure what's fake and what's real
I can't feel, my senses are numb and it's so hard
I wake up everyday just to get more scars.
To me, living is an obligation, i'll leave it at that
but the bottom point is, Flesh Is a Trap...