Original
Hey, feeling like wherever I go, this
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thing say paranoia. That stinks. There's
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someone looking at me.
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As far as I can recall, pretend I
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couldn't hear you. Almost every time you
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say my name through the night, could you
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say something?
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[Music]
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[Music]
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There's nothing
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[Music]
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[Music]
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to always find.
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I didn't expect that done. something
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wrong like socializing.
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I'm not what you want at all.
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Relax with the weather.
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[Music]
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like
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[Music]
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this
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idea.
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are going crazy. So you stay away
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[Applause]
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[Music]
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through my system.
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[Music]
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You can't cut it out
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inside.
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There's nothing
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[Music]
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to see.
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A calling card
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like who you are.
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Is it a passing face
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to always hide away?
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[Music]
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What is a man?
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What is it that grows hate in us?
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Questions without answers are
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meaningless pursuit.
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We know not the darkness that stirs in
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our bellies, as very few have seen it
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come to fruition. Does the well grow
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ever deeper? And what lies at the
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bottom, twinkling in the noonlight when
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struck just right? Fear.
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Lo fear comes climbing from that well,
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dripping and broken.
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Loathome fear crawls in anguish to our
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homes. Lo fear time and time again is
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welcomed inside. And to what end? Oh, to
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what end do we let this bastard thing
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control us? It brings nothing and leaves
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destruction in its wake. We feed it and
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nurture it and show it our darkest
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corners again and again, only to find
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not but destruction in its wake. Lo, it
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climbs through your window now. Steal
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yourself. The monster waits for none.
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Steal yourself. For it finds victims in
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the weak and compatriots in the affluent
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and puppets in the simple. Steal
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yourself, for your day of reckoning too
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shall come. And who will be eating at
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your table?
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I pray not the bastard of the well.
