A comb on the floor...
I used on my nerves
A broken cupboard, I couldn't serve
my soul crushed without my life observe
life, born with many mistakes
undertaken to cross the darkness... partake
I could feel my breath sunken in the pacific
Not specific, I'm crushed between white moons
I hold my breath thinking of my words at rest
I could dream best
I'm a beast without a fist
Held, too close to my inventions, observed
I couldn't die, I'm deceased
As I walk through life, over bear soil
exposed for man to man-ifest and spoil
A stained housed with many points...
