Cut me open and you'll find, A brain, heart, liver, lungs, And a knife in the spine. It's chilling to know, That the last place you go, Might be where the fat lady sings. Does it hurt? I don't know, And where do we go? We don't tease fragile minds with such things. So sell me down the river, First help me sell my soul, It's something I know I can deliver, I think we finally broke the mold. It's getting harder to know if I'm sane, My issues are leaking outside of my veins, Somebody save me, or end me, I haven't yet made up my mind. If it lead to paranoia, Boy, you might want to hit the floor, \N Before exposure leads to a metamorphosis, We can't ignore. Lost in a whisper and hung on a prayer, If you don't know where you're going, Any road will take you there. Will I be an end to someone's destiny Who's to know And will I give right in to my aggression Who's to know Will I fall apart all alone Who's to know Or will I shine right through, And lay this hate to rest with all of you