Lletres: Ghost Of A Fallen Age. A Poorly Tailored Man-suit.

I can see this so clear, you have your hands over my eyes and your tongue pushed through the back of my throat, taking control and creating a monster out of me. These thoughts are not my thoughts; I'm not the commander of these hands, and those piercing eyes. Oh those piercing eyes! Wish death upon those who try to stop them, even if it's me. This is the end. Push it out, push it far away, push it out, I'm my own enemy. These thoughts are not my thoughts; I'm not the commander of these hands, and those piercing eyes. Oh those piercing eyes! Wish death upon those who try to stop them, even if it's me; Even if it happens to be me. It's eating me alive from the inside. From the inside, until I die. I'm left alone with nothing more but this thick skin, and the emptiness is filled with nothing more than discontent for the only one that loves this empty shell of a man anymore. Oh the only one that loves this empty shell of a man anymore! It's eating me alive from the inside until I die