Story of a Young Man In Conflict

Each day, I am haunted by the Son of Perdition
It's a family curse that has never faded
So I avert my eyes in search of something sacred
I am, I am losing my mind

The thought of your touch makes me petrified
Because of all the flaws and all the sins on your hands
I feel too exposed and wear my clothes to bed
I've got madness crawling inside
A name on my brow
And I'm the talk of the town

I mistake faces for walls to drive my fists in
You try to get hold, but I won't let you in
I wield paper and pen to lie about it
Because you're so desperate for me to write about it

I devise rituals to keep you at bay
But the craze has settled and it won't go away
I still snap when I see you pointing at me
I still smile when I hear you squeal
So drop the white dress, name tag and your good intentions
There's no better person to be found in me

I have lost my way but it remains untold
Because I always find myself to be under the rose
With the past and the could have beens
Show me Procrustes' bed and I am bound to jump in

I've become the everyman
Who has abandoned the life of the free man
And do nothing but boast incessantly of the peace and repose
I enjoy in my chains, shackled
I gave way to the destruction of my Self
To serve as a thespian in this pointless usefulness
Self-accomplished or not
We are all still just cogs in a machine