Time - your time has come
Time when you find your truth out
Impassable and dark precipice
Which you dug by yourself
Slowly and unconsciously
You can't go amead
No place at the back
And you're ashamed of crying for help

Brain - the fetid sore
Makes you scream
Even when you dream
You can feel the pain
Your tears don't avail
You can't go amead
No place at the back
And you're ashamed of crying for help

Started at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, doubtless. Said I Whatmit utters is its only stock and store caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore of never nevermore
But the raven still beguiling all my fancing into smiling, straight i wheeled a cusmonseat in from of bird. And bust and door.
Then upon the velvet sinking, betook myself to linking fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous burd of yore
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly gaunt and ominous bird of yore meant incroaking nevermore

Spiritual epilepsy your world disappeared
Spiritual epilepsy when your world is death

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