Catharsis of a heretic

I refuse to shroud my past
These walls in here allows no rest
Tomorrow morning I'll be dead
But this place will burn before the sun will drown in the ocean

And nothing will ever be the same again

Yes, you can put me to the test
Or you can cut my tongue at last
Ideas are wandering through my head
What if all that I never said were true?

And if everything that is happening were due?
If all these things that are happening were really due?