Trapped in a Cage
Hot sticky seats, you know what I mean. Yeah.
Creaking stairs. Chain s. And armor.
Lemme out. Please? Mister?
Brooozes. Broo-hoo-hoo-zes. Peeling skin. Daily bread.
One day I'll set you on fire.
Six years?
As soon as I get out. Breakaway.
Give me back myself. Some wounds never heal, and I wouldn't trade what we had for the world; but I still wish you were dead. Stockholm Syndrome. I still wish you were dead, I still wish you were dead. I still wish you are dying.
If I pray hard enough, maybe you'll die for real this time.
Robeast!
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