Welcome to the melancholy mansion that makes up my mind
Watch your step when walking in, the doors will close themselves behind
This house don’t like it when the people come and watch and look within. The floors all creak and make knees weak when falsehoods enter with their sin
No ones bested one mere night, this house, it has a talent, see. It rips the real that lies concealed, exposing all the you and me.
It doesn’t need materials, disguising points that entertain. It seizes you and all the true and everything that’s in between
The knob upon its hidden door is locked but for the tried and true. It seeks the weak, empowers meek, and battles for both me and you
Come my friend, step inside, you’ll find that I’ve prepared a room. But I’ll remind, it isn’t kind – my mind may seem more as a tomb
How the World Should Work 