| Scared to look inside myself For fear of what I find Is there something wrong with me? A black and diseased mind Knuckles white and cramping From clinging to the ledge Then letting go like a clear blue stream I tumble from the edge No fear or pain or sudden thud From screaming in to hell But beauty, peace, tranquility This is were I fell Who’d have thought that everything That I’ve been looking for Was so close, always with me Right behind the door |