S I C K N E S S

All my friends are mindless creatures
you have to forgive us for when we sin.
For you see, there is a sickness
and it is creeping in.
Crawling into our heads, claiming our bones,
always isolated, sickness keeps us from feeling alone.
Feel it in our stomach, vomiting up our souls,
we are the youth, but my dear we are old.
Reflection of your pain, admit you want to die,
angel in form of a feather, teach us how to fly.
For there is no escape from a fundamental thing,
at war with ourselves, this illness lives within.
Gifted these pale pills, here swallow these,
we are sick, or perhaps we are the disease.


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