Not to worry

The enemy next to me
is me , an accessory
the sweaty obsession is pressing in , getting in i wont let it become a worry

I've found my lost lesson
it won't be depressing i swear it's just the opposite of relief
but now im digressing the weary procession has lent it's aggression to everything pointing right at me
i wont let it worry you
i wont let it worry you, no
i make a confession i thought it'd be better to kill her than let her get the better of evrything i tried to become for her
she'd die anyway, crying that life isn't trying too hard to make her feel just like a queen
and believing her honest without prejudicial malice that she needed out much worse than i needed in so death became her only virtue
but i won't let it worry you,no, i won't let it worry you ,
i can't let it become a worrisome
burdensome bulky or cumbersome feeling impending that the blood that is rending would soon be the blood on my hands in a flurry of doubt
but don't let that worry you
no don't let that worry you
i'm so sure that she wanted out.