Pleasure is like a living pill for the sick and ill
The prescription fills the hole, making you feel whole
For as long as you're getting thrills
But you notice it slip away the moment you're sitting still
Your skin starts to itch, you start to twitch
And feel the prickling chill
When things are heating up, they tell me to calm it down
Fuck calming it down, I'd rather pound the stage for the crowd
Than face the pains I harbour now
Applauds start to sound like waterfalls charging down
Carving out ravines in my soul, but it drowns the harshness out
See, I'm host to an addictive gene that murdered half my family
And now it's after me, I can feel it toying with my sanity
Asking me when I'll finally pack it in and drop my fantasy
Of a life without this anger eating me from the inside out
I scratch and I peal my flesh, strip it back to reveal an exit
Hacking a fresh bit to expose the monster to the sunlight
But this ones likes me on the inside, it's cold, dark and empty
Feel it tapping into my lifeline and listening to my heartbeat

There are two main reasons why man loses contact with the regulating centre of his soul. One of them is that some single instinctive drive or emotional image can carry him into a one-sidedness that makes him lose his balance, that I have mentioned only indirectly up 'til now.
We saw before that the shadow may be based or evil; an instinctive drive that one ought to overcome. In fact, whenever a human being genuinely turns to the inner world and tries to know himself by following the expressions of his own objective nature, such as dreams and genuine fantasies, then sooner or later the self emerges. But the dark side of the self is the most dangerous thing of all, precisely because the self is the greatest power in the psyche.

The Monster inside me, the Dark Knight of the Soul,
The Shadow Self, whatever you wanna call it, it's evolved
Growing as I decay, flowing inside my veins
Choking my mind, a Trojan virus soaking my wired frame
It pokes and it violates, it coaxes, defiles, taints
And twists my arm 'til the bone up inside it breaks
I've never been known to shy away,
But the only way I know to escape Is through distractions
Pleasure seeking, ever reaching for that buzz
But the pressure's peaking on the measure-meter
Sweltering in the desert heat
So I book a flight by borrowing money I don't have
Run to the mountains and disappear up a quiet path
The altitude making me feel high at last
I walk and I walk 'til my legs are breaking
Strength is caving, head is aching
Tears in my eyes from the childlike expectations
Of life so mockingly mismatched with the dissatisfaction
Of my present, future and the shit that has happened
And so I ride
Going where I go, just flowing with the snow
The monster sleeps, knowing I'll come home with debt
And an emotional overflow, that if it's lucky enough to get its way
And match reality with its expectations
Could yet again be the cause of another overdose
Or so it hopes