My body my mind, chiseled in, fading time.
Drawn to the brink, ever I sink, into you.
Carefully crafting sermons that teach, only me, to see.

I’m so thirsty for the flames

Something to burn away, a light so bright, you’d find me.

But I’m just a little black box four square corners of recorded thoughts
My story is the telling of truth
And it’s all just a lie, a little black box without its disguise

Still every day from the wreckage of hope I drag these tortured dreams

Defy what I know to be broken

Swear what I know can’t be spoken

If for just one moment for all to see, I’d be more than these four corners, I’d be more than just me

But I’m just a little black box four square corners of recorded thoughts
My story is the telling of truth
And it’s all just a lie, a little black box without its disguise