Surrounded by people, I feel so alone.

Left in a hole, deep dark and cold.

My hearts on my shoulder, looking to leap.

But defenses are high, there's no place on my sleeve.

I know it's not right, not safe.

My past and my fears keep me acting this way.

What needs to be done is screaming at me,

That talk show's on mute, And reception is fading.

Change may be a constant, for better or worse.

I swing between them though, like a pendulum.

Some improvement, then slow destruction.

The highs and the lows, it comes with the turf.

This is my gift.

My Curse.