That night where the moon shines over the river of darkness of my mind...
What a waste... So young they all say...
Living without a reason or foe...
What a boring way to live if not all to be dead...
God has no mercy on me does he not exist to claim rewards of fear?
I may poison the minds of others with not a line left in the sand...
The dance goes on...
Madness is not a desease... Its not a skill... Its who I've become...
I'm a product of the world...
Boring time if not dead time is coming at an end... I can feel it...
Soon my mind will break free...
Soon the dance will go on has it should have went...
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