my soul - too big for my size - is still budding
like a hairshirt sack cloth it bursts with my sin
my heart - cut and beaten - still decays blooding
and my face looses its dummy smile in my skin

under leaden feet my way gets knot-tangled
I am tempted to send it all to hell with a kick
to leave my own self at last
to break this shell
to show
it is me
again - given a fig