Someone closed the top on me
This red box, so treaturous
My head feels enormous
Yet not big enough to carry the load

Somewhere I forgot how to see
My eyes no longer work
No tears, I go Bezerk
Yet I continue down this road

Someone has control of me
Like a puppet on some strings
I think, What if I had these things
Washed cleanly from my mind

A look inside my soul concedes
That I am not a man
To high to understand
There is a thin line between confidence and pride

Someone out there seemed to strongly close
The top of this red box
It's hidden, concealed and locked
They tossed away the key

Life will come, stay and then it goes
Ends in a big red box
But who has closed the top
I sigh soft, could it've been me?