Gotta move up
Gotta step up
aint no runnin from the presure
aint no way i have to measure
how much time it takes to pleasure
coz like a wounded chamilion
change my colours i can be
one of a dozen or a million
you could never see the difference
coz once your close enough to see
its already gone and isnt me
just a mask in mosquarades
less then shadow - a night shade
quick phase-like photosinthesis i feed
see your every want and need
and indeed driven by greed for your flesh
your soul
your breed

But you cannot see me through
like a curtain, like a sheet
you aint even heard half of it
yet
coz what im really i am not
and what i could be i couldnt knot
out of its entaglements of mist
and all the pain,couldnt resist
turning to and fro and not at it
and now its all just gone and shit
and im a vessal not containin
im an archer thats not aimin'
im a preacher but im deff
im what was and im whats left
your the whole but im the one
your the pleasure im the fun
so what the fuck?

Nothin can make sense no more
coz there is nothing by the shore
the waves just keep on bangig by
and in this spot im left to die
and die i want,i need,i lust
to hell express and never back
in need of help,where could it be?
for courage i have nought in me
without a hand to reach out to
coz im no jentile and no jew
therefore no god will heed my prayer
so guess my car will take me there...