Incubus 

 

  

 

   New Skin

 

 

  At first I see an open wound infected and disastrous

  It breathes chaotic catastrophe it cries to be renewed

  Its tears are the color of anger, they dry to form a scab To touch

  It's stiff and resilient, underneath, the new skin breathes

  As outwardly cliche as it may seem, yes,

  Something under the surface says 'C'est la vie'

  It is a circle, there is a plan dead skin will atrophy itself to start again

  Look closely at the open wound see past what covers the surface

  Underneath chaotic catastrophe, creation takes stage

  It's all been saved with exception for the right parts

  When will we be new skin'

  It's all been seen with esception for what could be

  When will we be new skin'

  Fallacious cognitions spewed from televisions do mold our decisions

  So stop and take a look, and you'll see what I see now