In the grip of three
Lie leads untaken
She shows me cellophane eyes
I want to believe
But my fear is too strong
It's not enough to be five-sqare
And a-okay
I was born a monster

Tell me tomorrow
Why we are made this way
Strapped down and starved
Arranging pleasures around us
Within easy reach
My hands are shaking
Too much to mold anything
Except disasters.