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| Mis-Created Creature |
11/5/2000
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Try me once, twice, three times even.
Then throw me, down the gutter, down the hall.
I am nobody, nothing, no one.
Used and shattered I crawl, a form of swamp thing.
Into the dark, into the night.
A creature with eyes fiery bright and a shape so huge.
Nobody knows who the nothing is or if he will ever become something.
If that is ever possible.
Try me once, twice, three times even.
After all, it is just a test of the score.
Thrown against a wall is what I am when nothing becomes something.
A living creature dead, shattered and used, and bled.
Down the hall I go into the night, a mis-created creature I am called.
To heaven or to hell I know not where I go.
But is there life after death a question calls.
I am and who I am is all just a question, even this I am not sure.
Life after death, what a thought.
Just another question I have got.
But this is the story that I have learned.
The world and the heavens must always be turned.
So let it be known to us down below that what we reap and what we sow is made for us and us alone.
In the heavens it is true down to the bones.
I am who I am is all just a question.
A mis-created creature I am called.
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