I used to think that the world was the problem,
The skies were too grey and the oceans too deep,
The people too sour, beneath a shell too sickeningly sweet,

I used to think that the world was the problem,
With the voices too loud and the daylight too long,
Within a fraudulent masquerade for which I did not belong,

I used to think that the world was the problem,
Until the voices grew louder and reality fled,
Realising my own mind was a problem I couldn't behead,

I used to think that I was the problem,
That my self-induced suffering grew from within,
For I was the remote of life but forgotten how to begin,

I used to think that I was the problem,
That as I grew darker so did that of the night,
Selectively blinding any shred of comfort in sight,

I used to think that I was the problem,
Until I remembered to every problem theres a solution,
That there must be a way to drown out the tiring pollution,

I used to think I could find the solution,
Of how to fix the world, of how to fix me,
To be the person I always wanted, in a place I wanted to be,

I used to think I could find the solution,
Hours, months, years wasted in strife,
As this on-going search took over my life,

Looking for problems, trying to blame,
Empty-handed without a solution, huddled in shame,

Wasting away within a life that i'd never forgive,
For among all the calculations I forgot how to live.