Listen to a million songs telling me what I can be
Listen to a million people telling me what I can't be
Spent my childhood with a suffocated flame
Until I broke those chains, now I can breath
But I can't leave this place until I've lifted every stone
Still afraid of what might turn up
I've been corrupted, pushed until erupted
Blowing up like heavens and hells  collide
Not in real forms, here I welcome you to my mind.

There is no peace in this place, like the one outside it too
In this Mudville, Casey has a home run long overdue.
In a cuckoo's nest, I can't imagine how many flew
I'm continuing to write down my tracks, as always,
For myself. Im hoping they may help you too.

Battling blocks that writers rarely talk about
Falling stagnant with a pen
If I did something outside of this,
Imagine all the hours I could spend
Not riddling my upper rattle
Prattling  on about things most will never read
Listening to a million songs telling me what I can be
Now all I can do is just believe