It Feels Good, Doesn't it?

It must feel good to have that kind of power over me
That kind of note that makes one screech at it's sound
It must feel good...
Grand
To know that even when I leave
Your mark is on my funeral gown
Harping on my sleeves
The gaps in my soul decorate me in Gaudy gold
As I scream out in search of a symphony ...
To sing to
It must feel good...
It must feel good...
It must feel grand to know as I play this piano
Your fingers can still fuck with the keys
I can get this out or fall to my knees
Bow to the crowd
And declare that you've won
Declare that I'm done... trying
To hide
The dust
That you left behind me...
Go ahead and feel good already.