Psychasthenia - William Fitzsimmons

Could you map this globe

With a torment slowly rose

To a fear resigned

Quiet room I hope I find

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

With an altar robe

I have stumbled knife to lobe

In compulsion drown

Counting every phantom found

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

With a bridge I’ve killed

I will serotonin fill

To a fear resigned

Quiet room I hope I find

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

Cut me open please

Cut me open please