Pendulum Sonata

wrapped in the cold embrace
of someone I used to be
the skin that folds over my bones
is a prison that won't set me free
the mill that's in my belly
will grind these bones to dust
powered by paranoia and doubt
turning my resolve to rust
so i paste my face onto a smile
try to look like someone sane
while i keep wondering,
what is wrong with my brain
then the fog lifts
doubt melts
the man in the mirror
looks like someone else