Must struggle to survive in a world of confusion
Trapped by a framework of pain and illusion,
Unsure where one fits in the spheroid of being,
Wandering, searching, but far from ever seeing.
Gotta love the goodbeasts, so tender, so simple and naive,
Smiling at the sun, morals embrodiered on their sleeve.
But I'm about as constant, and kind, as the fire hissing in the brush.
Come, touch me, little goodbeast. It can't hurt you to touch.
I'm confused, I'm bewildered, I'm aching to kill.
I was born nasty, you know. You know I'm nasty still.
All in the blood, all in the brain. Ain't my fault I'm what I am.
And I lie, I lie. And so do you. Ain't our truth but a sham?
Oh, I'm running in circles, running in spirals, lost, lost, LOST.
Drowning in a darkness from within, my soul stained with dross,
Ain't you gonna help me, ain't you gonna think?
Beyond the horizon of ignorance, beyond the brink,
Of course predjudice and unchallenged belief in a world cut of straw
And the skins of vermin. Ain't you gonna reach out and force open the
maw
Of bigotry, and find out what pulses in it's heart? Find out the
cost...
Of leaving me, and my kind to wander through eternity lost... lost....
lost.....