Saturday 16 September 2006

This world makes me ill


Slowly and constantly corroding by that creepy black flow
Want to pick a hole behind my head and spew from my brain
What is that so dark and nasty enchased in my soul
And makes me suffer from my own thoughts
The inner fight is irrevelant so I implode
Wish I could bleed my heart to purify my rotton soul
Perhaps it is me that fucking makes myself ill