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"The day of death grows closer still All the while I hold the pill To make or break this path I've chosen Will I choose the water or poison For the path of God is never easy
People say that I'm different. I see things and hear things not of their world, But of mine: Shadows and figures with no physical connection; Voices belonging to no one
The pain begins to kick in. The never ending pounding, The drums beat inside my head. Trembling, the room spins, Sipping the vodka in my glass, I'm drowning. My liver screams
On the beat, on the beat The only sound's the pounding feet Of people jumping on the stage, Dancing the story of our age, Of all the humans in their cage The dancers free their pounding rage.