For All To See

 

My pain is self-chosen, at least so the prophet says

I could either burn or cut off my pride and buy some time

A head full of lies is the weight tied to my waist

The river of deceit pulls down

The only direction we flow is down

My pain is self-chosen, at least I believe it to be

I could either drown or pull off my skin and swim to shore

Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see