I murdered my mattress with a clean shot,
Left my dreams in a vacant lot
And told them reality would dig their plot.
The thoughts heighten, when I'm enlightened
Feeling like I'm close to fame
But even if everyone looked up to me
I would still hate myself all the same.
Forget the money, it does mean nothing.
I'd rather pour it down the drain.
I'm not winning if this life is a game.

I'm tired,
I'm tired of working a dead end position
I'm tired of phone calls that ring until I listen
A smile that while looks good on my face,
I feel eight hours a day, like a waste.
I'm bored, nothing arises,
The problems, nothing surprises.
Stuck here even as I write this.

At home, I wanted to be, the father my father wasn't to me
But how can I look any better
When all I was given were tattered genes.
To stand on a mountain and feel like a king
But it's raining outside,
The mountains are starting to sink.