Anvil Head

My head carries the heavyness of a thousand worlds in war
It would be no different, far
From the human existence

My eyes carry a discrete, conformed sadness
My mouth a bitter, unpleasant taste

My head carries the heavyness of a thousand worlds in war
It would be no different, far (from the human essence)
My eyes carry a discrte sadness that only see the blind
My chest, an empty and colded heart

My ignorance is a mirror of my dependence
Of keeping machines and numbers work
My anger can't explain what's this sickness
That make all my gears bleed and burn

My ignorance is a mirror of my dependence
Of keeping machines and numbers work
My anger can't explain what's this sickness
That make all my gears bleed and burn