the Stage is mine
the Lights go on
here comes the perpetual marathon
I have the power
it's in my hand
I'll have you eating out of the palm of my hand
Please look on
please do laugh
I need the attention, this is my craft
But really, Is it power
when in an hour
the impending darkness will settle in?
Then the onrush of torture begins
The lights go off
the music stops
And here I am, surrounded by my thoughts
Please make it stop
Is it a talent when the mic's cord becomes your neck's best friend?
It stings my skin
it gouges my eyes,
and soon my very brain shall fry
The introspection
reveals the tension
BUT IT'S REALLY JUST MY INVENTION
This innovation
this torture machine
will have all of them calling me queen
am I really that mean?
EMOTIONS?
I"LL MASK THEM
WITH THIS HATEFUL INVENTION
The only side effect?
It throws the key away
it locks the door
NOW WHAT THE FUCK AM I USEFUL FOR?!
Please don't barge,
please don't pick,
all your neglect, it just sticks
I'll look through the frosted glass door
I don't have to risk being seen anymore
you ask me who am
and what I'm here to do
But you don't fucking care, do you?
That was rhetorical
this machine, it makes my life horrible
I'm launched into this cycle
of endless loneliness
because this evil machine, it does not rest
