And I painted, and I played, and I killed late in the morning.
And I burned that house down with everyone before mourning.
I had no guilt, I had no shame.
I left that town, I changed my name.
An eye for the eye, a kill for a thought.
A logic imprisoned, a right, fought.
Chaos and unchivalry.
Deeds done superficially.
Back to the artist, criminal at times.
Back to the Nazi for a word that rhymes.
I schemed their death like I tie my laces.
It was thought I was dead like other cases.
I was dead long ago, I came back on a mission.
Back to an amphitheater, won the audition.
I came back to look at the burntdown house.
I came back to see my art, my life after a drowse.
I felt complete, I felt empty.
I felt alive, I felt guilty.
I wanted to run, I wanted to hide.
I wanted to cry or maybe suicide.
I needed to live, I needed to die.
I needed to… wait, who am I?