What good this deafness, that my whole life I have dread? What good this deafness, with these voices in my head? What good this deafness, if this crassle I must hear? If I were blind, I'm sure they wouldn't disappear. Did you really want to believe what you're saying? Did you really want to be here alone? Have I interrupted a moment of playing? While your life's decaying, your sins are they weighing? While you've been carving your skull, all on your own. Did you really want to sit here in silence? Would it be that brooding is part of your art? Is it an extension of artistic license? A moody defiance of all of life's tyrants? While you've been searching your heart, alone with us in the dark. www.LRCgenerator.com
