Crucify Your Mind
Was it a huntsman or a playerthat made you pay the cost?That now assumes relaxed positions,and prostitutes your loss?Were you tortured by your own thirstin those pleasures that you seek,that made you Tom the curious,yhat makes you James the weak?
And you claim you got something going,something you call unique,but I've seen your self-pity showingas the tears rolled down your cheeks.
Soon you know I'll leave youand I'll never look behind,'cause I was born for the purposethat crucifies your mind.So con, convince your mirroras you've always done before.Giving substance to shadows,giving substance ever more.
And you assume you got something to offer,secrets shiny and new.But how much of you is repetitionthat you didn't whisper to him too?