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If I Were Bound By My Own Tongue
If I were bound by my own tongue
As if chains holding down mountains
My heart would be content in the belief
That my life was worth being hunted
By the shrill of the crows beak
I hate everything about this world in which I am alien
I hate everything about this world in which is failing You
I reject the desire of selfish gains
All while my heart screams for fortune and treasure
In order that I may cash them in for power
The moment the weight becomes too heavy
For my boneless back to carry
I hate everything about this world in which I am living
I hate everything about this world in which is failing You
In the days that light becomes so dim it’s rarely seen
What will become of my eyes
What will become of me
