The Contortionist

Do not sell yourself short on what you bring
Incomparable to those that believe
Oh, the time has come to break bones and bleed
Out the pores it flows, spread onto the leaves

The road in front of me is one of recovery, cover the shelves
Hide all the cutlery, coloring subtly
Suddenly, I don't feel quite like myself
Real slowly, I'll begin twisting and folding
Stripping off layers of clothing
Just like a spider, I'm molting
I do not know where I'm going
Remote location withholding
Onto the past, it's revolting
I think my brain is corroding
Shh, this level's still loading
Frozen now, this game's corrupted
I'm on a path toward destruction
This road is closed for construction
Sorry that I'm disappointing
(Sorry that I'm disappointing)