Striving though not feeling alive
Through restlessness
I'm closer to grave resort

Living though feeling buried alive
I constantly dig up dirt
With hope to uncover
My elusive dirt nap

Dear gawd periodically alive I'm loosing at living

Ooh gawd it be nor time which Upheave ye of below whom once strived to pave ole means beneath feet over bent knees

Ooh gawd aimlessly headed upstream this day uproot slimy stepping stones
Unlike shockingly downstream view of untraverse mudslide

Not heeding through waste of space I splurge
Not believing initially my what hurts

Til I'm urged to purge not timeless space but what psyche emptiness avoids

Ooh gawd as recluse sole by entertaining smothering nothingness

I rue not embracing lack of grasping ones own evasive conundrum

(Though self defeating rut how does it feel to want)

Ooh gawd because the world such ah small town I'll sooner rue the word.

Ooh gawd whom or what's gonna make believer outta me knowing
like most soles I'm tru to though not toward said subject matter.

Ooh gawd weighed down we've sown so, so what?