grey day.

What's wrong?
Is it wrong or is it right?
What's right?
Is it day or is it night?

What's gotten into me?
What's gotten into me.

What's wrong?
Is it right or is it wrong?
Is it here or is it gone?
Is it weak or is it strong?
Is it dusk or is it dawn?

This has gone on far too long.
This has gone on far too long.

What am I?
Am I right or am I wrong?
Am I here or am I gone?
Am I weak or am I strong?
Why can't I just get along?

Take shelter in the center.
Lukewarm just might be better.
Take shelter in the center.
Swim inside the loop.
Swim inside the loop.

Tick tock, evil clock. Start the minute I stop. Tick tock, rolling rock. Nothing soft and warm inside. That was the night I must have died. This breathing thing is no more than a lie. Reply. Why? Nothing means anything, right? Winterbite. Watch it through the rhyming smokescreen. (Trying to make pretty of otherwise unrhythmic, unflowing chatter) Death will get you clean. Wait...What was I trying to mean?