Clearly I'm self-aware, copacetic with myself.
Can't help lying, slyly sneaking words in with stealth.
But if I told the truth, I'd find it hard to just continue
living each day revolving around the same issue.
There's a time and place, I'll just let it fall into that.
Slowly bleeding out though, health is ruining my stats.
I wake up every morning like I'm somehow surprised.
The hardest part of doing that's to open my eyes.

I let go of everything that gets too close to me.
It's not really hard when all they want to do is leave.
I can't keep a straight face while my heart beats,
like it's just a joke, or some sick kind of make believe.
I guess my life just likes it to match my humor;
dark, sinister, perverted. That last one's just a rumor.
I ruin lives like addictions to a bad drug,
disconnected mothers that never gave their children a hug,
accidental situations replacing limbs with awful stubs.
The only difference is that I just make it easier to love.
I provide the tools to lose yourself within the moment.
When its gone, I only have one rope, i guess i can loan it.
I need it back though, never know when it could be useful.
Youthful euphemisms hanging from the ceiling, plain beautiful.

Will I ever see the brighter days before my last comes?
Raising my standards after each and every "last one."
My life is like Detroit roads with all its holes and bumps,
dumpster diving bums searching every scrap and crumb.
I can't interpret karma, reasons why it put me here
living life as less of a person than my surrounding peers.
Clouded judgement, but my intuition's much more clear.
I can't find the road, with abundance of potential to steer.