Just breathe.

That's what people tell me.
Angry? Just breathe.
Emotional? Just breathe.
Sad? Just breathe.
Breathing will relieve you.
But what if breathing is what you're most afraid of?

What if breathing feels like a million lit cigarettes
dancing a tango all over your body?
What if breathing feels worse than not?
The most basic act you need to perform
to stay alive is what gives you a longing to die.
Ironic, huh?

Deal with it.
Things could be worse.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

As much as people would like to think
I'm doing this for attention, I'm not.
I would never put myself through this
for a few minutes of spotlight.
I wish I didn't have to give myself a pep talk
every morning just to walk out the door
because I'm too ashamed of people looking at me
and seeing what I see.  

As much as people would like to think
I feel sorry for myself, I don't.
I feel sorry for the friends that choose to stand by me
wanting to take away my hurt but not knowing how
because I'm too arrogant to accept their help.
I feel sorry for my mother whose own sadness
I've failed to find an answer to.
I feel sorry for both of my parents,
because they live in such small minds that
being my true self would be too much
and crush them.

As much as people would like to think
I should just deal with it, I can't.
Maybe I don't know how.
Maybe it's a puzzle I can't find the pieces for.
Maybe deep down I'm just selfish.
Maybe I let myself get this way.
Maybe I like feeling the pain.
Maybe I'm scared of what I'd feel instead.

Maybe I wish I wasn't such a coward.
Sometimes I wish I was strong enough to let
the shiny sharp silver take the ride down the river
of my arms and watch all of my disappointments
and failures and ugliness and mistakes
drip from my skin to the concrete.

Maybe I'll deal with it.
Maybe I'll stop being selfish.
Maybe I can find the strength
to muster up a weak smile,
and fool everyone.

Maybe I'll just breathe.

How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Sitting here with faces.
Thinking of different places.
Everyone’s different cases.
They matter.
But how do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Looking at the teacher.
She’s talking ‘bout the preacher.
The faces have the features.
They change.
How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Concern to learn.
Concern to earn.
Concern to burn, the books we read.
The books we read is to lead.
To lead the faces to the places of….
How do I pay attention when nothing matters?
Do I have to care about this lecture?
Do I get a say about the next section?
I’d rather paint a vivid picture for the teacher.
Still talking ‘bout the preacher.
The preacher and a creature.
Who are they?
Am I the preacher?
Am I the creature?
Talking in circles.
Because none of this matters.

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.
I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring ...
You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.

Paint a picture of me,
Show it to others,
Tell them about me,
Tell them how bad of a person I am.

Tell them  how I have done nothing for you,
Show them how useless I am,
Point out to them all,
How much of an ungrateful idiot I am,
Show the my free will which you willingly shoot down,
Tell them how I crucify others but hide how you crucify me,
Show them the bad things that I have done,
Sing to them of my rudeness,
My audacity, my arrogance, my impatience, my habits,
Complaint about me to them,
Tell them every bad thing you have to say about me,
Continue to paint  the bad picture of me to the world.

Isn't that how you want the whole word to see me?
A deranged lunatic,
A bad son,
An awful brother,
An idiot of a friend,
A filthy creature.

That's all you can think of me or say of me.

Crucify my free will over and over again,
Poke and jab at my thoughts.

This is why i'd rather lie and die than be with you.

This is why one day, I will go insane and then you will see the light of day of what I have done for you.

Here's an experiment I'll try now
Give me a moment to explain how..

"NO!" has hyjacked my life
And thus set off my wiring for strife..

It began rather young
When "YES" wished to have fun..

"NO!" would so often spoil the game
Using its crew: Doubt, Cruelty, Shame..

YES tried to stay on track
But NO could see what it lacked..

Using my wiring to take command
YES was not strong enough to stand..

Against NO's impossible power
YES, for a long while could only cower..

But YES, recently found a key
Promising to set me free..

From NO's tyrannical rule
YES whispered "NO only aims to fool!"

Clear your mind of NO's debris
Impose thoughts that move more free..

Toward the goals you have set
Let not your mind forget..

The power is yours to keep or lose
Dependant upon only the direction YOU choose.