By Malmacar
When sometimes loneliness meets confusion,
Behind the misdirection of sanity's illusion,
Thats when the wrong answer comes to me,
Frustration at one's rerun of errors,
Even with the most sincere endeavours,
It still comes to me.
The key is often silver and razor sharp,
Open up the pale white doors for the world to see
Whats really flowing round this poisoned heart,
It's just a passing thought, you see,
I think I'd be too scared to even make a start.
Looking at the door, I'm thinking, that there is
no turning back, as the key sinks in,
Are my thoughts straying too far?
On all of them a time bomb drop, see my shrapnel
burdens cause their misconceptions to stop,
But what if it goes too far?
The key is often silver and razor sharp,
Open up the pale white doors,
And flood the world in a sea, of the troubled red waters
That flow round this poisoned heart,
It's just a passing thought, you see,
I think I'd be too scared to even make a start.