killer Tao erg

Killer lives inside me: yes, I can feel him move.
Sometimes he's lightly sleeping in the quiet of his room,
but then his eyes will rise and stare through mine;
he'll speak my words and slice my mind inside.
Yes the killer lives.

Angels live inside me: I can feel them smile...
Their presence strokes and soothes the tempest in my mind
and their love can heal the wounds that I have wrought.
They watch me as I go to fall - well, I know I shall be caught,
while the angels live.

How can I be free?
How can I get help?
Am I really me?
Am I someone else?

But stalking in my cloisters hang the acolytes of gloom
and Death's Head throws his cloak in to the corner of my room
and I am doomed...
But laughing in my courtyard play the pranksters of my youth
and solemn, waiting Old Man in the gables of the roof:
he tells me truth...

And I, too, live inside me and very often don't know who I am:
I know I'm not a hero, well, I hope that I'm not damned.
I'm just a man, and killers, angels, all are these:
Dictators, saviours, refugees in war and peace
as long as Man lives...

I'm just a man, and killers, angels, all are these:
Dictators, saviours, refugees...

Sofa Sound