Suppression the divine entity of existence

From the head to the gut, from the gut goes the rut

Suppression, dont say sorry

For there are no woes when you bottle down the blows

There is no guilt or loathing that can be built upon your spirit

When you bottle it down with the cork of self-pity

All is gone, day is done, gone the son of Tuesdays re-run

Suppression, precious power of my mind

For theres no greater spill than the champaign of my will

When the bubbles rise and the cork goes awry

All is lost. Emotion is my undefeated foe

I drown in the remnants of my life

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