Mind is overloaded
forming some sort of twisted funeral dirge.
It certainly seems that all signs point this way and not that.
It’s better this way
I’m better when I’m not trusted to feed the needy.
My menu consists of 2 options for you:
I was never a good cook
in fact I was never good at anything
Every eye that locks me
Every voice in my ear
Every hand that touches me
pulling at my thread.