Conscience has me easily disturbed
The moving things around me makes me weep
Why can't they stop so i can see them properly?
It makes me wonder if i'm slightly in daze
My hands are thrown into a great fire
My inner ear is singing
Singing like a huge church choir
Decomposition of my eyes won't help my vision
This isn't quite as funny anymore
Corpsepaint isn't really necessary
I haven't got a pulse anyway