Some days I feel like my body is dying
I guess it always is, technically
Must it be so emphatic though?
Leave me a trace of doubt, an illusion
That this isn’t my life from now on
Some say it’s in my head
I must be more powerful than I thought
A mad sceientist could harness this freakish ability
To harvest imaginary pain, nurture it into reality
A Bond villain with the perfect conduit for
Dastardly plans, keeping the simpletons sedate
and distracted
Okay, forget the movies
My talents belong in the government
Sowing discontent, deceit and pain
Just please don’t make me work nine to five
That’s the real killer