There's a Spirit

Whatever makes me wish I were dead And rose again without this nature? Is it tormenting, troubling Is it obliging things I can’t do? Does it forbid things I could do? Surely, there must be a spirit That makes me do things I’d never think of doing. And there’s one too That stops me from doing Whatever deed that grasps my mind. That’s not because I’m the wisest of men I seemingly act foolish though, Yet the owner of this heart I call mine Knows the reason why. Should I be frightened of whatever the storm fills the sea of my longing life?