Only talknWhen silence is listeningnSpoon-fed guilt is slowly poisoningnDon't prod my speechnBecause I can't answer thatnI can't be teachednIt's something beyond thatnnI've got the mark of Cain nI've got the mark of CainnnFeel so small but so gargantuannDon't see myself but I see everyonenOutside an attic outside my house nThe same blue fingerprint the same stained mouth nnDon't try to justify thisnWhen there's no there's no blood on my hands n