Intoxicated and mistreated
you feel as weightless as a feather
control the anger and the troubles
it will be over your mind so sober
clawing at reapearing scars
cast them out into the stars
call the fire to stay a blaze
it will keep you warm through stormy days
the wetness of your skin will not dry very soon
you wake to quench your passion
from the mornings to the noons
rapidly saying to yourself where am i going with this pain
it makes it better for an instant
but then turns around and you do the same
like a game you cannot win
the room that surrounds you constantly spins
it always wins the other side
it wants to see you slowly die
you must reach out to others the same
and when trouble comes do not complain
going insane is not the way
finding yourself in dark alley ways
drawing darkness closer than it should
going further than you thought you would
The end is coming and it wont be good.
