sorry for people
sorry for more
sorry for what
god oh what a bore
incessantly droning into your mind
all for the joy of being unkind
no escape from the fear that there is nothing new
or possibly even a job you cant do
while the whispering scrapes like chalk in the dark
without rhyme or reason or even a mark
for fear that this leads to a death in the dark
god knows what it is you keep in your heart
this death is it murder for want of some more
or maybe suicide who knows for sure
when down on your knees you plead for help
theres no one to hear you so whimper or yelp
no one can reach you there yes its so
and as for god he dont want to know
theres nothing can save you from whats in your mind
against these voices so cruel and unkind
where do they come from who wants to know
no way to explain this thing as you know
nothing can stop them power absolute
like the torturers found at a clay pigeon shoot
where reason and logic hold no sway
and ground thats solid just gives away
these desperate hands clutch and fail
so what in your mind may yet prevail