Who Is This

Looking in the mirror, who is this I see? Because this person that I'm looking at cannot be me But possibly it's what is underneath, buried alive Begging and screaming, pleading to be free It's growing in me, this human sin and disease Pathetic as it seems, temptation has me down on my knees I'm invisibly bound by this crown of thorns I've got this being chasing me with a tail and two horns God, take my soul or whatever is left of it Pick up the pieces and Satan you can have the rest of it As for life in general? Hell, I'm fed up with it Between the lies and the hate it's hard to keep my head up Feeling like I can't go another day but then the rain starts to let up I feel like a clown, disguised in a ridiculous get up Wearing a mask so know one knows exactly how I feel My trust is gone, it's too much of a risk to be real So I'm standing in the mirror wondering, Who is this I see? Because this person that I'm looking at cannot be me