Like the Woodcutter Sawing His Hands
I cannot tell
The true riddle
Of my own self
The great fleet of thorns
The tumult of inner voices
Mindlessly persisting
The hours that assail all things
The hours that assail all things
Every
Every second is a cage
Every action is a cage
Every reason is a cage
Anguish is alone
Its supposed companion a ghost
I cannot tell
The true riddle
Of my own self
The great fleet of thorns
The tumult of inner voices
Mindlessly persisting
The hours that assail all things
The hours that assail all things
Every second is a cage
Every action
Every second is a cage
Every action is a cage
Every reason is a cage
Anguish is alone
Its supposed companion a ghost
Anguish is alone
Its supposed companion a ghost
Anguish is alone
Its supposed companion a ghost
Its supposed companion a ghost