Judgment is always swift and severe The angst burning and sincere For me there is no penance Self -limitation runs deep And is hereditary I never earned my keep That's a cross I crave to carry I do not blossom Left to rot Time and time and time again I am first in the line to cast a stone Time and time and time again The Bruises will show at whom the stone is thrown Over time, the pit gets stronger walls Over time, I stop to hear your calls I have no fight in me To try to stop And when you can't see I go and start to rot Masking mud that stains me Seems to be an arduous task Common sense has failed me I have questions left to ask I do not blossom I left myself to rot