William Fitzsimmons Psychasthenia
Could you map this globe
With a torment slowly rose
To a fear resigned
Quiet room I hope I find
Cut me open please
Cut me open please
With an alter robe
I have stumbled knife to lobe
In compulsion drown
Counting every phantom found
Cut me open please
Cut me open please
With a bridge I've killed
I will serotonin fill
To a fear resign
Quiet room I hope I find.
