Still It Has Only Just Begun

On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left
Integrity's gone, I've lost myself again

On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left [bad word] is loose, and it's only just begun

On the outskirts of my mind, there's really nothing left
Violet dreams of violent kind, they haunt me now you're gone

Violet dreams of violent a kind, kaleidoscope mind of hate
The battle with everyone was really just the enemy within

I hold the [bad word]  I am the cure, I hold you down, I beg you now
Try not to look me in the eye, as I'm headed for the kill
I know I have to do it, even if I'm lost

Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you
But it seems like I never had you anyway

This ceremony of opposites in my relation to both shadows at play [bad word] and
utter darkness, and the inexplicable absence of light on the brightest of days. The
reality presented to me by shadows, appear no different that the one displayed by
light. I am the difference, I am the anomaly, I am the abyss, and the void. It is the
false [bad word]  and the [bad word] is always false.

Can't seem to find the outskirts
Can't seem to remember the violet
Can't seem to remember the day that I lost you
Can't seem to tell a dream from a lie
Can't seem to tell you why I'm here.