Alba s touto skladbou:
Songs from the Underground,
Under Attack (B-Sides),
Hybrid Theory EP (Underground v1.0),
Anguish,
Where should I start
Disjointed heart
I've got no commitment
To my own flesh and blood
Left all alone
Far from my home
No one to hear me
To heal my ill heart, I
Keep it locked up inside
Cannot express
To the point I've regressed, if
Anger's a gift, then I guess I've been blessed, I
Keep it locked up inside
Keep my distance from your lies
It's too late to love me now
You have more to show me
It's too late to love me now
You don't even know me
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release, Break!
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace, Me!
Breaking a part of my heart to find release, Too!
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Keep it locked up inside
Keep my distance from your lies
Breaking a part of my heart to find release, Break!
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace, Me!
Breaking a part of my heart to find release, Too!
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Breaking a part of my heart to find release
Taking you out of my blood to bring me peace
Keep my distance
Keep my distance
Keep my distance
Keep my distance...
Spit drips from the jaw of the witless witness
Cryptic colloquialism shifts your midrift
Dark all I do embark the shadows
Involved with my thought catalog, analogue, rap catalog
Keep my distance and fear resistance, hurt by persistence
The twisted web of tangled lies
Strangles my hope to waste and numbs the taste
And I'm forced to face these hate crimes
Against the state of being
Feeling the weight-less-ness pressed between the ceiling
Reeling around room
Riding a bubble of sound proof
It's the frequency making you
Sha-Shake with every boom
Involuntary muscle contraction
Ignoring and then drinking musical gas fueled euphoria
The sound pounds to make the dead flush
To have you a head rush with red thoughts and said stuff
