Is my spirit lonely, this virgin, built up such a hard shell, if I try to break through, accept love and life, it could end up violent, your heart, walks a fine line, between what’s wrong, and what’s right, mine has a natural disposition, to seek destruction, it's ill, not in its right mind, if all it took, was a water lily, opening up, and accepting me in, that would be just fine, but I'm such a crude man, flower petals are fragile, they need to be treated right, I'm not built for the job, by hands are heavy, stained with blood, my mind deluded, my jokes dirty, it would be a crime, the sky is blue, I want to look at the bright side, but it’s safer in the prison, my perspective is deteriorating, all I can do is try to survive…

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