My pain is self-chosen at least, so the prophet says
I could either burn or cut off my pride and buy some time
A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist
The river of deceit pulls down the only direction we flow is down
My pain is self-chosen at least I believe it to be
I could either drown or pull off my skin and swim to shore
Now I can grow a beautiful shell for all to see
The river of deceit pulls down the only direction we flow is down
The pain is self-chosen our pain is self-chosen
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