I cannot decide if I'm open or just openly guarded
Confused, nothing to lose, positively disheartened?
I didn't ask for wisdom, but I didn't wanna breathe for a game
Down to the choices of painfully oblivious or rightfully insane

I cannot decide whether to hold back or to give it up to the rain.
What a simple thing to wonder, but is the giving worth the gain?
Empty vessels ponder without care, it might be nice for a moment
But one slip is all it takes to tumble, I'm not sure why I know this

I cannot decide if I'm supposed to be part of something  greater.
Or a placemark, a rock in the stream, the hostage for a traitor?
Am I the slave or the warrior, am I the disease or the cure?
Am I the fight or the patriot--if so, what am I fighting for?

God... what am I fighting for?