Слова:
Blind Myself Product Of Our Imagination

Depression sets in Moonlight Darkness When we rest our heads Others come out like: Rats , roaches and parasites Looking to mop every bit of moonlight

Stepped-of-failure Smashed to reality Choosen way was wrong Won the price You never know Until you've made choice You never know Point of no return

Raised to be Placed among confused minds Became one of those without realizing Not the one-who used to be Slowly turned somwhere else, some place Where

Understanding of love When the mountain seems like a hill And the ocean seems weak For the eyes There's a force That's-like-fire turns the won't into

PRODUCT GOT HER LOOKIN ALL CLASSYWIT A TENDECY TO FOLLOW THOSE WHILE JUST LOOKIN AT THA ARTICALS WAS U SMELLING MY PRADA CLOTHES SOMETIME I TRIP OFF MYSELF