Prototypical
My skin is inflamed in proto-religious activity
A strange reaction to a divine extrapolation of my body
This proto-prophet has misconstrued that which has happened to me
And in his description of plot, my purpose is a tormented effigy
His views summarize to proto-fascist control
You forgive one sin but you prototype another
How can I ascend to the sky when I feel it all
Like a dove exiting my corpse
Suffering splayed open, intoxicated I crawl
My brain degrades
The feeling lowers to a vibration
The paper crane
Fragile in its manipulation
My wings of fire have lost all their feathers in war
I've tamed the snakes and flailed in the sea of gore
I'd think opening up our bodies would be enough for you
The loss of blood throughout the infected wounds
His views summarize to proto-fascist control
I lie confused inside an
Unknown vat of strange liquid
My brain becomes so scrambled
Mixed into a concoction of shit
And those couple dark little extra dark things
They linger there for me to ponder
Any sort of orifice that blood can bleed through
Sprouts forth into an unending fire
My brain degrades
The feeling lowers to vibration
The paper crane
Fragile in its manipulation
You're gonna fucking tell me it's ok!
My damn intestines are in disarray
My skin fuses with the inside of me
I thought that I was fighting valiantly
You made it all feel fucking incomplete
I lost my mind in fucking travesty
I'm nothing but fucking insanity
I fucking hate the shit inside of me
Tormented fades to dust
I feel feathers on my wings
The creeping moment blinds me
Into believing things
My likeness is propaganda
Perhaps I could be loved throughout the earth
Wipe the blood off my face
My God, I'm losing my composure
Autor(es): Erik Fredriksen
