Twist the Knife (Slowly)

Gut level, below it all Out of duty - just here Feeling like a knife's being twisted in the hole of how it is False hope, an inch of pride that died When I left to hide from non-stop Battering of conditioned opinion Rest assured, but not assured All is well, but I think we've dealt With the fear for far too long Unborn suffer, unborn suffer Unborn suffer the norm Born to this - I think not! I stand against till the shit drops We see all but do nothing, in the hole of "How it is"