Steve Sloane - Visions of Pain

Made Of

Whatever I'm made of
It's not from the same stuff that I was last year
I'm feeling melted
And rather hell-fed
Tired of waiting for the sleep that blows me out

Whatever I'm made from
I think I need more of for the game ahead
I feel like a net without the holes
A shaky bet between the poles
At the very least a threat to my own goals

Whatever I'm made of
There's got to be some love or the whistle blows
Now I'm killing my time down in the mine
Drilling a hole for light to find
Whatever I'm made of

Just killing time until it's mine

Credits
Writer(s): Steve Sloane
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