You think I'm nice? I'm not. I can make ice steamed hot, I
can make monkeys dance and what, you think I'm scared to
have you shot, you think my pot of magic never blinks, my
urge sadistic whims aren't mystic, none are yours admit it
and your domestic conflict's solved, red lipstick smeared
over your aching, aging bones.

Double sided double minded, half smart half fucking blinded,
showing white and hiding black, results, revolts, like
thousand volts bolt through your mind half mindless,
nonetheless it never stops, a constant sharp pain in your
veins, your foolish mind, your coward conscience bound to
pop, break under pressure, reassuring decompression, drag
yourself into depression unexplained and unresolved.

Gloves are put to hide suppression, glasses to express the
lies, leather coats and knives, not passion, used to thrill
unbalanced lives.
Human hives to steal the private, incoherent souls of yours,
waves of thick smoke down your alleys wont prevent from
coming towards.

One the other cannot see, neither do they want it, sea and
earth embrace themselves, neglected you will always be, at
least until you find what's really real, what's not you have
to dig out from your mind, to hide it... just as well to
find, it's never cleansed until you steal it, paradox for
remedy.

And you believe the lies? I don't. I work hard, dig the
truth, or what I think it is, gold or wood, it doesn't
matter what's the price,
honesty, respect brings pleasure, pressure brings what's
coming to you all, a stress unwise,
timidity be sensible, bewitched romance to rise, to outgrow
dreams is to reject all happiness in life.

I sense it's lost and anyway, it falls on silly eyes, but
try just try for once and you will find how nice is to be
nice.