I’m starting to lose the feeling, I miss the times that I took for granted. I’ve dug a grave too deep to escape. It’s all like a dream, yet I’m still wide awake. I’m going on auto because I’m unstable, losing my balance. I always hide the lie, but I think someone found it so I’m going on auto until they forget about it. There’s no good in my secret, don’t search for the pilot. You searched for a king and all you got was Wyatt.
This false light I got is starting to flicker. Every promising life goes out in a whimper. I miss when things were simpler, but were they ever simpler? I’m never the winner, so I need a mentor. Stuck talking like this, stuck living like this. The people who know me don’t know who this is. I’m stuck acting like this, hurting myself like this. The people who know me can’t pull me out of this. I'm going on auto.
Everything is looking in at me. I can’t get away. I can’t get away. Everybody is singing in harmony and I’m still singing out of key, out of key.
I can’t get away. I can’t get away. I can’t get away. I can’t get away.
I wrote this part when I was in the darkest days of my life. This is it right now, this is the height. I always speak in past-tense like I’ve lived any kind of life worth repeating all the time. I’ve only repeated a lie. Everyone and everything has felt alien to me, but now I’m realizing that in reality I’m the one who’s been left out. Every lie has a little truth in it, the pain in my smile has always been on my face by default. When you can’t be happy manually you throw your life on an auto-pilot, and hopelessly hope someday you will like it. Sweeping up debris from another catastrophe, add another pretty line to an awful masterpiece. A shoulder to cry on has never came to me because I’ve cried enough and now I’m completely empty so all that’s left to do is shrug and live with it. I’m going on auto.