Testo di Black Identity Crisis

Awash in a sea of songless kids Drifting aimlessly along their grey Adrift in mists of silent thought Vamped and vilified by fears of the dark Liquified mind dreams only metaphor Solidified iris calibrated by the past Measures only what could have been What could have been? Over-exert to make the cut Who am I? Who are you? Who is this slut? An object of their pleasure for my pain Who am I? Who are you? Whose fault's the fray? My face hurts My skin erupts My body grows My body aches This grows tiresome It fatigues me On constant attack Faithless technology An intricate tapestry Voices in symmetry Bathing the human body On the silk Help - Help - Help - Help