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!