We're going to miss this room. Watching.
How they tread carefully.
I look around at their worlds of glass
They were not prepared for me.
No longer paying tribute to their pasts.
They hide it, but I know they're scared of me.
Can't say I'll miss the hissing - Of these snakes in the grass. They showed me to love fast, and die young... They didn't take care of me. They weren't prepared for me...
Who am I to deny them the gift of me?
Who are they to deny the rift in me?
Who are you to say you lifted me? When you tried and failed to crush me - I hold love where my fists should be. I hold patience where the cysts should be...
Can't say I'll miss the hissing - Of these snakes in the grass. Showing me to live fast, and die young. They didn't care for me. They weren't prepared for me...
Does the prior make me the bigger man? No.
But the skin is thicker; does that mean I'm sick? No.
I can't quite put my finger on it. I can't say much. The fingers don't feel, they're not allowed to touch.
They got burned last time. They did the burning in past times.
Don't blink, you might miss it.
Don't close your eyes for too long, you might miss me.
It feels like being undressed, but the gods can't let you be blessed until you burn the curses yourself.