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Am I weird, Am I crazy, Am I going insane

Left in isolation with horrors of my trade

A blank canvas staring me in the face

In search of beauty that is not being made

I pour mind and soul, my oil and paint,

Into creation of altruistic stake

A vision of creation met with antagonization

Dissenting voices say it can't be done that way

Left Isolated in an echo chamber

Repeating voices justify the maker

What's going on I got blood on my hands

I think I've gone mad

Everyone speaks of breaking the mold

Too many hands can tarnish the gold

Watching, lurking, tightening my grip

Listening to you babbel makes me sick

Left Isolated in an echo chamber

Repeating voices justify the maker

What's going on I got blood on my hands

I think I've gone mad

Left Isolated in an echo chamber

Repeating voices justify the maker

What's going on I got blood on my hands

I think I've gone mad