It's hard to tell your friends when you're feeling pretty bad
And elaborate on the situations that have made you sad
It's even harder to tell my Father just yesterday I felt like dying
Yet flawlessly and effortlessly I can tell my Psychologist without trying

It's ****** isn't it? That I trust a stranger more than the family
I grew up with, lived with, the worst parts of a better me
Some days I look around and ask myself if I am proud of
What I have achieved and whether or not it is enough

Satisfaction from the parts where I know I've done well
Disappointment at the aspects that will **** me straight to Hell
So I question life, I wield a knife, makes me so depressed I self-harm
So now you know why I bear the scars, up and down my arm

They say I could be like sand near the seaside
And you the push and pull of the ocean
So you build and break me like the tide
Move sand away from my hands in motion
While I'm left to wait for the moment we collide.

They say I will cause your waves to break
Then how come you slither and never uncurl
With every squishing move forward I create?
Then how come even when caught, you whirl?
Even when in possession your storms culminate?

If I could only see into your whirlpools so deep
Be mesmerized by your blue, like being asleep
To fish for pearls of knowledge about you to keep

For though you gobble up any nautic attempt,
Though you defend with sloshed foam and current,
They say I am the shore and you are my ocean
And after all there is one true notion:
Your currents kiss my sandcastles every day
And willingly, my sand grains float your way.

Ibaba mo kasi yung baso para di ka mangalay.
Napaka simple lang naman ng mga sagot sa mga bagay bagay.

I knew it wouldn't arrive
I knew it was a lie
How much time cause of him did I loose
Broken promises with zero done
This is love, very problematic
Like you, Like me

It's a wait on the telephone
The simple adventure on the ilogic
The craziness of the magic
A posion without any antidote
The bitternitess of infity.
This is love, very problematic
Like you, Like me

Things didn’t turn out to be the way that
I thought they really would be.
Often times, and more than not, they’re not
done the way that they should be.
It’s approaching that time when I move my
old mountain—this fact is most certainly true.
It’s time that I carve that big old mountain
that is blocking my one and only view.
My fifteen minutes are still on the way—
but coincidentally, I just might need twenty.
You say that there are no silver linings,
but touches of grey are surely plenty.
With time of the essence and all in a hurry,
I’m simmering the meat for the great big stew.
I believe it’s time to move that old mountain,
the one that blocks my incredible view.
Bulldozers, trucks, and backhoes not needed—
I’m thinking it will only require my hands.
For once in my life I’ll go to the source,
the untapped one that even I can’t stand.
So as I tunnel deep while digging in the dirt,
it’s time to find soil that bleeds all blue.
No better time to move that **** mountain—
you will be glad when I’m rid of it too.