I don't belong on this planet
As I was born with a gun to my head.
Just like any of your human plans,
I too was born with a mean to exist.
I don't know why I was born this way but
I swear I would change if I could.
In my mind it's less of a selfish desire but
A debt to myself, an obligation to do it.
I didn't want to create this terror.
I bottled it all in until the day that
The devil sitting on my shoulder
Crawled in my ear and laid an egg in my brain.
Been thinking about it as I lay awake at night.
Hear me out, I need to make you my prey.
But you'll say no.
There's no way out.
I need to lay this beast to rest.
Fear me now.
I'm fixated on your flesh.
You scream "no."
I say "no way".
We're all the same in the way that we've got a soul
And need to set it free.
So to break the lock I'll indulge
In uncontrollable tendencies.
Now we could blame it on my life's ambition
And call it my human instinct.
But the truth of the fact of the matter is
I need help because I am sick.
There's something inside me that is growing.
There's something inside me making me feel ill.
I've got a sickness that cannot be treated.
It's ingrained on my brain, can't you see?
There's something inside my head and I want it gone.
When you are out in society
You have to find a place and make a living.
Well, it's fucking brutal out there.
What harsher consequence can there be?
You need to pay for the art that you've been suffering for.
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