Do I feel it now, I have to ask.
Troubled and doubled over.
Toilet seats are too cold.
Something's getting out.
Home isn't home anymore.

I wish my daddy tried harder for me,
Cause I missed him so much,
All the elementary years,
Spent wondering,
“am I a burden on my father?”

I was told I wasn’t,
That he loved me dearly,
And that he had to leave home,
To keep working to the bone.

Yet he’d tell tales about jumping from cliffs,
Running from the pigs that infested the cities,
Flew to Malaysia but still couldn’t visit me,
Now I’m starting to wonder if he really meant any of it.

I was told he did,
That he loved me dearly,
And that he had to leave home,
To keep working to the bone.

Well I’m not convinced.
I’m nearly 20 years in age,
And I think that he thought nothing of me.

All that I can figure out is nothing makes sense,
I end up resorting to burying myself in the sand,
There's a chance that I am nothing more than a child,
And the wind calls away from this place I called home.

My tear ducts are alike to the canals on Mars,
Empty and red from the eons of dread,
You're no better than me, stop pretending.

I feel like buying a gun
Cause I’m not having any fun,
I’m done trying to run,
These days are coming undone,
No longer seeing the sun.

I can’t sleep for the life of me,
Why can’t these thoughts leave me be,
Im struggling to begin to see,
The forest for the trees.

Cry out every night,
God, save me from this plight,
I’m half a human as I write,
Hope I find a little light.

I don’t want to move on,
I keep seeing the same dawn,
It’s the same one I’ve always drawn,
Feeling like a plastic pawn,
I won’t be here for long.

I can’t sleep for the life of me,
Why can’t these thoughts leave me be?
I’m struggling to begin to see,
The forest for the trees.

I’m just a product
Of all the trauma,
You raised me this way,
Carry some blame,
Cause I’m holding the shame.

Messy rooms,
Unmade beds,
Dry showers,
Crusted plates.

I’m just romanticized,
You can fix me, I’ll be a prize,
And you’ll hug me and love me,
Till the next time I die.

Messy rooms,
Unmade beds,
Dry showers,
Crusted plates.

I can’t see my floor, anymore,
My room is becoming my tomb,
Just wait I’ll be out soon,
And you’ll see my rat’s nest,
Of disgrace and unrest.

I don’t know how to sing,
But it’s all I want to do,
And the floors give way,
To a whole new song,
I just can’t sing along,
Cause I was right the first time,
My voice still sounds so wrong.

Meshing together in a single spiral,
A passion-driven thought,
That’ll wrestle with logic,
I’m hooked to the fight,
A looping paradox.

Captured lights steaks of these cars,
Post them up all over the highway chain-link,
Asking 'Which one of these blurry angels would save me now?'
But I know, if they love me as much as they love themselves,
Tell Lucifer I’m on my way.