How the mind does shout for rest
When the body is shaken, yeah
Oh, this tightness in my chest
Still your leaves I'm raking

Oh Lord, is this a test?
Was it fun creating, yeah?
My god's a little sick
And he wants me crazy

Who
Are you
Who can say
It's okay to live through me?
Live to be
Part of me
You're a wrinkled magazine
Yeah

Was it something that I said?
Was it how they're breaking, yeah?
I'm so selfish, paying your rent
While your blood I'm taking

You
Spend me
Like a tree
Dirty dollar bills for leaves
Dark in a sea
Of my seeds
And the tears on which you feed

You feed

Your body is a temple
A dormant alter
To where infantile men lie around
Itching and nibbling
Hoping for a small piece of sanity
That of which you can not give

Shit!

Individuality
Buying penance with my soul
And a little Heaven spent
Why the hell not take it?

Thieves
Parasites
Hide from life
You know they'll remember me
They are abhorred
In self-worth
All that matters much to me, yeah

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Jerry Cantrell, Layne Staley, Michael Inez, Sean Kinney