I've got my envy.
Cut me and I'll bleed green
Saying things I never mean
These bloodied hands will never clean
Tainting waters once pristine
I've got my hate.
Raising guns to set things straight
Always saying it's too late
Exit wounds decide your fate
A bullet for the magistrate
I've got my greed.
Wanting things I never need
To my decry you must take heed
Sit yourself down, I'll take the lead
Until my sweat begins to bead
I've got my lust.
The smoothest brush
The softest touch
The lightest hush
A situation clutch
This is far too much.
I've got my wood and nails
And I sleep inside of this machine.
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