I could fly like the Phoenix I'm supposed to be,
At cloud height, Cloud Nine, see everything
Were it not for the ropes that hold me down
Were it not for the bloodlust, torturous sounds
Were it not for the voices in my head
That sometimes make me wish I were dead
And maybe if I wasn't so critical
Or perhaps just a little less hypocritical
Were it not for the need to be OCPD
Straighten everything, as straight as can be
Checking my back because I'm paranoid,
That someone will appear, push me in the void
And I would swirl and spin, forever trapped
With all lights off, and no time to clap
That I would be that man, the one in black
Who would self-indulge in a self-aimed attack
Who would one day slit an artery, and just lay there
And with open eyes, unseeing, continue to stare
Glaring at the world that held him down
Glaring at the grey sky that never helped him out
Angry in death at those who tormented him, bullies
Maybe I could fly were it not for these,
Things
straight outta creativity well
