Your Vineyard

You have not yet learned how to scream Nor shout or yell or call You have learned how to bottle Pouring wines from your fingertips You are a vineyard of emotions Anger plucked too early from the vine Is the sourest crop you grow here But guilt is your most popular flavor You sell a wine called "The Seven Sins" You had no idea fermented fear would sell so well It fills your head with whispers or addicts But customers love the adrenaline aftertaste I'd like to buy your vineyard, please I'd like to burn it to the ground I'd like to set the "no talking" sign aflame And I'd like to hear you scream As your life work falls to ash and smoke I'd like to hear you scream Please, I beg, learn how to scream.