no matter how mad i get ill never show it in front of you by:weston mesteth

my hands shake as if they were beatin with a meat tenderrizer
my mind goes dark as if it was closed down
my body is dying as if it was my time
my viens are poisoned as if someone really wants me dead

1. i am in need of music that would flowOver my fretful feeling
   fingertip Over my bitter-tainted trembling lips,With melody, deep, clear,
   and liquid-slow.Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,Of some song sung to
   rest the tired dead,A song to fall like water on my headAnd over quivering
   limbs, dream flushed to glowThere is a magic made by melody:A spell of rest, and
   quiet breath, and coolHeart, that sinks through fading colors deep To the
   subaqueous stillness of the sea,And floats forever in a moon-green pool,Held in
   the arms of rhythm and of sleep.