1. |
Selfless
01:52
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2. |
Selfish
02:49
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This is the wreckage of 30 years,
Immortalised, trivialised.
An empty letter of empty words.
The least sincere apology.
I am the remains of a twisted internal monologue,
Unwilling and unrestricted.
It is the divide
Between consciousness and unexpressable.
Unified yet emaciated.
I am the pacified, bleeding wordless discontent.
Unwavering contradiction of words and mind.
It’s too late, it’s too late...
I am the selfless,
Gripped by fear.
It’s too late, it’s too late...
I am the selfish,
Falling apart.
It’s too late, it’s too late...
I am the selfish.
There is nothing left here
Of value or worth.
To review past and present
Is to do nothing but
Shake this cruel crushing cage.
The thought occurs
To shed this skin.
Instead I beg,
"Forgive me, please".
There is no answer
Or solution,
Only my self,
Screaming.
Nothing even matters.
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3. |
Self
02:14
|
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There’s nothing darker
Than what lays inside.
Ignorance is far from bliss,
This face expressionless...
Crippling anxiety.
Introspection,
The deafening roar.
There’s no respite.
A flood that swells inside,
All comes surging forth,
Crushing every defence.
Left with nothing
But desperation.
Desperate, twisted thoughts.
Inconsequential.
A fleeting moment
Of empty space and infinite time.
Stare into the face of the unknown
And see nothing but myself.
I plead to look away, I’m too far gone.
I grasp at any hope or passing thought.
I bleed my mantra,
“Now is not the time”.
I sicken myself.
This has become more than a problem.
It's more than a problem.
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Bed Of Wasps Dundee, UK
Bed of Wasps are;
Martin Robison - Drums
Chris Potter - Vocals
Darren Smith - Guitar
Ryan Page - Guitar
Thomas Brady - Bass
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