| What I am is not who I am,
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| I’m buried in this suit of skin,
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| What you see is not what you get,
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| I’m drowning here, deep within.
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| My appearance casts no shade,
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| I am a blue sky that turned to gray,
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| I am not thunder, nor am I rain,
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| I’m not a Golem but still made out of clay.
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| The Day of Judgement,
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| Cursing loud at the sky,
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| Screaming «Why?»
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| The Day of Judgement,
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| Had no purpose, see? |
| no goal,
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| I turn black into coal.
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| What I am is contradiction in terms,
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| My apparition still unseen,
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| Monochromatic, not black or white,
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| Please hear my silent scream.
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| Who I am is not for me to say,
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| Her belly shivers as I walk in shame,
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| I am a clown, but without relief,
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| What you get is who I became.
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| The Day of Judgement,
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| Cursing loud at the sky,
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| Screaming «Why?»
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| The Day of Judgement,
|
| Had no purpose, see? |
| no goal,
|
| I turn black into coal.
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| A picture clear as the day,
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| Came to me, that’s where I heard you say,
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| You were chosen, but not the one,
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| You were ripped, but you came undone. |