To remain objective
to a closer call

secretly rejected
and to mediocrity fall
caught on the downslopes of life

the patted shoulder remembers
the elbowed side resists

encircled ad nauseam
an enemy to define ourselves
an enemy to refine our hate

encouraging
on the negative scale

bent out of shape
is the measuring norm
in words and in writing
noone knows my enemy
...like I do...

a social repellant
[not] merely an adversary
lost to the failing words
kept the last of all
understood glances
to work against

the patted shoulder remembers
the elbowed side resists

encircled ad nauseam
an enemy to define ourselves
an enemy to refine our hate

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
27
27.113
Probot My Tortured Soul (with Eric Wagner, Trouble) Lyrics
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