| There’s a beast in every man who breathes
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| With him from birth until beside him in the grave
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| A hideous presence just aching for release
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| Its chains aren’t as strong as its memory
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| It lies dormant so far from dead
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| Grating on me, this uninvited sense
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| Its whisper like branches as they bend
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| Twisting, grinding just threatening to snap
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| Floods of frustration, cascading in my skull
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| On the axis back and forth, the swinging pendulum
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| So much damage, bashing each wall
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| I hear the sand pounding in the hourglass as it falls
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| Sometimes I just wish I could shut it all
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| Off, off
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| The endless rage that tells me something’s
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| Off, off
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| The voice that’s spitting lies, just turn it
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| Off, off
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| Tear away the scabs, I want them
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| Off, off
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| The demon on my back, just pull him off
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| There it is again, telling you you can’t
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| That lump in your throat, you fight to swallow back
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| There it is again, hoping that you won’t
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| Wishing failure but not giving up the ghost
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| Silent voices, stabbing at peace
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| Pushing off fingers from the ledge of sanity
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| Like a thousand leeches, feeding on your wits
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| Making something meaningless seem significant
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| Sometimes I just wish I could shut it all
|
| Off, off
|
| The endless rage that tells me something’s
|
| Off, off
|
| The voice that’s spitting lies, just turn it
|
| Off, off
|
| Tear away the scabs, I want them
|
| Off, off
|
| The demon on my back, just pull him off
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| This uninvited guest inside my brain
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| With every threat whispered I feel nothing
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| And when I’m at my best it intervenes
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| How can I get anyone else to relate
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| Silent voices, stabbing at peace
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| On the edge, pushing my fingers off, off |