The Killer Lives Inside Me: Yes, I Can Feel Him Move.


Sometimes He's Lightly Sleeping


In The Quiet Of His Room,


But Then His Eyes Will Rise And Stare Through Mine;


He'll Speak My Words And Slice My Mind Inside.


Yes The Killer Lives.


Angels Live Inside Me: I Can Feel Them Smile...


Their Presence Strokes


And Soothes The Tempest In My Mind


And Their Love Can Heal The Wounds


That I Have Wrought.


They Watch Me As I Go To Fall


- Well, I Know I Shall Be Caught,


While The Angels Live.





How Can I Be Free?


How Can I Get Help?


Am I Really Me?


Am I Someone Else?





But Stalking In My Cloisters Hang The Acolytes


Of Gloom


And Death's Head Throws His Cloak Into


The Corner Of My Room


And I Am Doomed...


But Laughing In My Courtyard Play The Pranksters


Of My Youth


And Solemn, Waiting Old Man


In The Gables Of The Roof:


He Tells Me Truth...





And I Too, Live Inside Me And Very Often


Don't Know Who I Am:


I Know I'm Not A Hero, Well,


I Hope That I'm Not Damned.


I'm Just A Man, And Killers, Angels,


All Are These:


Dictators, Saviours, Refugees In War And Peace


As Long As Man Lives...





I'm Just A Man, And Killers, Angels,


All Are These:


Dictators, Saviours, Refugees...