The Symptom Symphony

Here comes hands that hold you dearly
Knives that cut you very cleanly
Into pieces (a-oh)
Many pieces (a-oh)
Fall away and never raise
Holding slowly
Holding pieces
Down the streets and dirty laneways

Compelled to sing my song

Hear you now my symptom symphony to you
The lord above compels my voice
I have no choice
It goes over and over and over again
Round and round and round and again
Refrain and refrain and refrain and retain
It goes over and over and over again

Here comes hands that hold you dеarly
Knives that cut you very cleanly
Into piеces (a-oh)
Many pieces (a-oh)
Fall away and never raise
Holding slowly
Holding pieces
Down the streets and dirty laneways

Compelled to sing my song

Hear you now my symptom symphony to you
The lord above compels my voice
I have no choice
It goes over and over and over again
Round and round and round in my brain
Refrained and retained and refrained and retained
It goes over and over and over again
Round and round and round and round

And in the [?]
Just pieces lying over my [?]

Over and over and over...