I've got a bone to pick with all these skeletons in closets
They're breaking down the barriers, embellishing my losses
And under all the verses, I wonder if it's worth it
And whether it's irrelevant, the elements are constant
No sleep and apparently a pen
Is the [bad word] for the therapy again
So I scribble in a pad 'til it carries me within
All the ripples in my past that I carefully attend
When all I got to do is take a look into my pedigree
And mentally amenities will make another memory
The penalties are lending me a bitter loss of energy
destiny of inhibition until my wings will set me free, now
No time for regrets, keep moving forward and hope for the best
Its all gone, I'll say so long and never let go of what I hold in my chest
This is dedicated to the dedication left behind
Me, a dedicated mental patient on a bed of knives
I meant to find a certain person worthy of current purpose
Searching through the epitaphs to make the dead alive
And edify as I watch all the faces walking by
Painted with perplexing looks, abrasions and awkward eyes
Showing me to modify broken wings I've taught to fly
Often I go and dream of a place across the sky
Where I reside and dark breaks the light
Never stop moving, a sharks way of life
Set still as sparks drape the sky
And debt builds, a heart pays the price with
Love, pain, sun, rain, (I remember when my mother used to lie to me)
hate, grace, blood stains (and I remember when my father used to lie to me)
Life, death, time, rest, (and I remember when my teachers used to lie to me)
this is my breath (and then they wonder why I have no faith in this society)
I can't find stability I lack the right ability
To act inside humility and magnify the will in me
Every time I try to be, satisfy or feel at ease
I'd rather be an actor and to act than try to deal with things
Until I fall and I hit the rock bottom
And I grieve with the leaves 'til I pray its not autumn
The blood starts to draw and it falls from the wrists
When the slits are across and I ball up a fists
So call it a gift but I'm not living for the present
When it all [bad word] the past and I can't listen to the questions
Isn't it a blessing when I feel like I'm alive
And I don't have to be another [bad word] cynic for a second

III...

[I remember somebody once asked me if I ever thought about regret... the answers no. Because when this masquerade is finally over I want to be remembered for who I am. Not who I was or who I wanted to be, cuz this right here, this is me, so follow this]