Becalmed in the wake of the latest storm, swollen blue skies
Not long before in a cardboard box I refused to die
Childish acts of repetition repetition, interludes
Tired memories looped upon a spindly spool
The fear of being abandoned abusive delusion
Method actor Jekyl and Hyde
I am the father and the Mother’s brother’s distant cousin,
The children and the wives
A multitude of thousands live inside my head, Manufacturing weapons demanding to be fed
Me myself and lunacy are breaking bread
Me myself and lunacy are on the mend
But it's hard to accept that your mind is sound
When your heart’s become an art exhibition
And it's hard to inspect, whether your mind mind’s still fried or wrecked
When your life’s become a public execution
Undertaker by trade, grave by nature,
Writes something down continues walking
There is method in the movement, ideas practising yoga stretch
A zoom recorder is needed to dictate revelation
To be a man is to shave with a dry blade at fifteen years of age
Me myself and lunacy are breaking bread
Me myself and lunacy are on the mend
But it's hard to accept that your mind is sound
When your heart’s become an art exhibition
And it's hard to inspect, whether your mind mind’s still fried or wrecked
When your life’s become a public execution.