My mind is a deserted, foggy marsh
Fog so thick I cannot see
If there were something to see�
Give me a job, I want a friend
Tell me what to do because
It's easier than thinking
I once had real friends
They used me and left
That's the price for being nice
Who will whip me next?
When will I be free of these chains?
When will I be a person again?
When can I trust a friend?
When will my slavery end?