A wretched corpse
A rotten mind
12 times wasted
A coin each time
A fruitless tree
Is standing still
To uproot itself
From a sacred hill
A flawless theme, is never real
Until it is
Then flaws appear
Life is pain
Life is worry,
the apprehension that you're not sorry
When things were simple
When ways were plain...
Society seemed... So much more sane