Identity crisis: I never thought I'd be shaped by the tones coming from my mouth. Questioned over and over again. I'm wrong. So I ask for the answer and I tell them right back what they said. Still I'm wrong. Still the answer's the same. Something's wrong with what I'm saying. Something's wrong with my saying. This stutter strips me of humanity. My dialect rapes me of dignity. How I wish my words could be just words. "Better shape up, Boy. Better shape up. You'll never get nowhere with that tone." For marked as wrong kills my self, and it kills me how much it kills them to accept that this isn't about right or wrong. Words are never just words, words can never just be words. Talk, you've got a stutter too.
Track Name: Aokigahara
Breath buried above him, his city blacks out mountains. Stains rule those below them. Life submits to the grey. Aokigahara. Life for him begins outside his world. Spirits wait with arms wrapped around. Skies will lift all ambitions. In the woods it doesn't matter. Aokigahara.