This soul can fly--I know it, for I've seen it in my dreams--but it's caged within this bag of meat that's rotting at the seams. I long to wriggle free of it just like a butterfly...to become something beautiful before I die.

If there were but a way to cut the cords now, then I would. I'd soar off through the cold night sky beyond the lonely wood that lies and beckons wildly from beyond this place I haunt

God, how I want
I want
Oh, please God, how I want it, oh

free me if you hear me, if you're there and feel my pain. It pounds in me relentlessly like cold, torrential rain. My boundaries are flooded, see me weep beyond the lines in these dark times I'm doomed to live in stabbed deep through by life's black tines.

For years and years I've waited for a light that never came to illume the cracks and shadows where I cowered, broke and lame. The wounds I bear are suppering and fester black with hate--is it too late to heal them finally? Can I avoid this fate?

God, can you hear me?
God, do you see me?
Oh, please, someone,
can you ease this pain?

Erase me from existence. Let me lay down this weary head and become a forgotten piece of history, an unimportant mystery, something never studied well 'cause no one ever cared. Let me pass now from harsh scrutiny, from society I mutiny, if I could just please be allowed to lay down this weary head,

and finally know peace and truth and light when I am dead.