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"Culture of Pain"
© Psyche Corp.
guitar performance and arrangement by Jason Perez
I met you alone in the dark and aching,
Your hair mysterious, your face a girl's.
I had a weakness for children waking
Up scared of the wind and mad at the world.
Your family is dead, such a tragic story,
So keep picking fights at school with boys.
You win all the games in bloody fury,
Forgot how to cry but you know to destroy.
I closed my eyes and dived,
Into your culture of pain,
To learn the blue-black agony,
Of bones and teeth and shame.
I cherished you with fists,
And drove you to the ground.
You laughed until your hand was kissed,
--Your heart began to pound.
You flinched; I strangled you,
And you began to breathe.
I took you home and sewed you up,
And told you you could leave.
You loved me with your fingernails,
You loved me with your knee,
You screamed and drove me to the ground,
Through tears, you couldn't see.
You meant to say you'd stay,
You meant to hold me close,
But you needed me to hold you first,
And never let you go.
So I did.
I study blows like insects,
Your cry of rage like rain,
And I replied, to your surprise,
Vernacular the same.