Really I say I feel a bit somber, Don't hear any voice around, Like in a Necropolis or a boot hill, Let me squelch this moment of ill, Scratch it, pluck it or rinse it away, Black is the only color that is showing me the way, I have the lamp, but, where is the light? My heart feels heavy with no respite, Wandering in thick fog in a Chaparral, Am I gonna live this life like a hunter? Or, this sky will show a silver line sure, I see this dream often, will find its cure, I often see bruises on my soul, I happen to love cruelty in its own kind, I write, write and write when I loses my mind...! Really I say I feel a bit somber, Don't hear any voice around, Like in a Necropolis or a boot hill, Let me squelch this moment of ill, Scratch it, pluck it or rinse it away, Black is the only color that is showing me the way, I have the lamp, but, where is the light? My heart feels heavy with no respite,
