Water fills my lungs,
My eyes bleary,
I cannot move on.
My hatred and anger will not be quenched
Till my soul has gotten its peaceful end.

Sorrow swallows me whole,
Nothing to do but drift afloat.
My soul sometimes astral project—
Did you know?

Oh, how wonderful it is!
The crows that sit on my windowsill
The centipedes that crawl over my skin.
It's quite pleasant—
Have you ever tried?

I feel it,
Alas, do you feel it too?
The cobwebs in my hair,
The dirt under my nails,...