A million times I've pulled the trigger
A million times the voices quiver
But every time they come again
They can't be killed, there is no end
Is all then lost...no hope at all
Of course there is, by means so small
From neath the veil of empty soul
The threads of who I am control
Shear will exhorted through the fray
The voices flee as I do and say
That which is right, denying me
My only hope for sanity...my only hope eternally
Will I be them...Or will I be me?
…Jeff Bresee