Or Draining My Head In Rhythm.

...

I am a man raised among hyenas
Cackling at cracks in the world
A glimpse at human ideas
Judgement, quickly hurled.

It's the same machine
The one of hatred
The one of peace
One lets off steam
And the other one saves face.

Slapped away, my hand recoils again
What have I done?
I'll never say anything again.

I've learned some words
Ones that never excite
For if that occurs,
I'm afraid I might die.

What's the matter?
I haven't once spoken wrong
Haven't we shared enough chatter,
To move this thing along?

"There's nothing bad
I just don't really feel that drawn
You've watched everything you said
And so you haven't said anything at all."