Sometimes I tap my cigarette in time to the syllables of the numbers nine through twelve.
Sometimes I wonder if anyone knows what the hell I'm talking about.
So I walk around outside to try to understand my mind
just to get lost on a journey and leave it all behind.
If you could join me, I'd show you all of the lights.
The ones with deep meaning that make everything all right.
But it's times like these that I'd rather be by myself:
Nine, Ten, E-lev-en, Twelve.

As a kid I always lived inside of my head.
Backyard battles with demons were always so vivid.
One time I stuck a bunch of duck feathers into the back of my shirt.
I ran around the pool jumping -
just trying to leave Earth.

As I grew up, I maintained my thirst for adventure.
Fell in love with facing fears -
succumbed to a lust for danger.
Always trying to disprove my doubts.
Nine, Ten, E-lev-en, Twelve.

Fell into doing drugs and developed a taste.
Having fun with a new crowd.
Learned to deal with disgrace,
but sometimes I'd catch my reflection in a mirror
and couldn't recognize my own face.

But all the while coming closer to achieving my dreams.
Knowing one day I'd fly away on my wings.
Came to find out the true nature of the place that I dwell.
An angel can't fly when he's trapped down in hell.

Nine, Ten, E-lev-en, Twelve.

Sometimes I feel that I want something more,
Then sometimes I'm content to lie down on the floor,
And I can't help but wonder
If this is all that I've been searching for.

Just a strange place to lay my head,
And foreign surroundings to make up my bed,
Then I can't help but wonder
If this is a scene from a book that I've yet to have read.

The first time I went to Disney World,
And we were crossing a bridge,
I asked, "Is this all some part of a story?"
And my grandma said, "Of course it is!"

She was referring to Cinderella.
You know, the one who met that charming prince,
But I was talking about all of life,
And I've felt misunderstood ever since.

When I was a little kid,
About maybe five or six
I told my parents I would become an addict on purpose
Just to show them how to quit

They said I was foolish
They told me to stop it
But I insisted I would

Now here I am, almost 20 years later
It's about time I made good.

Everything will be alright
These frightening thoughts won't live past tonight
You'll wake up in the morning and feel . . .
Whole again

So when you feel that noose getting tight
When the shadows obstruct your view of the light
Just lay down and go to sleep
And when you wake
Everything will be bright

This moment you're stuck in
Will not last forever
There will be a tomorrow
And it'll make you feel better

But there's a chance that it won't
The trick is to hope
If you go to bed knowing that you'll feel empty tomorrow
Then don't

You'll wake up in the morning and realize
That you have no friends
You'll wake up in the morning and think
That you have to start all over again
You'll wake up in the morning and wish
That you'd rather be dead

But still everything will be alright
You'll grow accustomed to this empty life
You'll wake up in the morning and feel . . .
That hole again

So when that fiend comes to trap you
And you struggle ensnared
And you scream out your soul to find somebody who cares
You'll hear your own echo come back
And realize that nobody's there

Nothing ever will be alright
You've ****** up real good
Permanently this time
Spend forever in the void to repent for this crime

But this time is an illusion
And this void is made up
I am cause I am
And that one thought is enough
Everything will be alright
Because everything is what you're made of

Going through my very own time portal
Watching my life through my head
And I'm sitting wondering how I got here again

Singing a new song with clicks and clacks
Knowing it will soon get stale
Sipping on my brandy and ginger ale

You might understand a different plight
But this one is all I know
Sometimes I wish I had somewhere else to go

Remedies are all anyone can say
I know that they never help
A person's got to learn to save their own self

And all it takes is some will power
To keep myself away from this
But I can only ever stand to do
Whatever I wish

And all I have is all I've ever had before
Sprawled out on the ceiling of my own room
I think I'll spend tonight on this bathroom floor

The best poem I ever wrote was written just for myself
The best movie I've ever seen; I shared with no one else
This is my life
This is my hell
and when it's all over, you'll just say "oh well."

And it folds so completely back onto itself.

I once knew a girl who said,
"All those little coincidences mean that you are exactly where you are meant to be, at that moment in time."
I believed it then.
Then I grew older, and the coincidences started to happen too often.
They became commonplace.
When she came back from the dead I told her so.
That "Our lives are all subjective, and the only reason that we recognize the coincidences is because we just so happen to be paying the right amount of attention to the situation that our minds currently find themselves in.
There is no such thing as coincidence.
Our whole life is but one big 'coincidence.'
The deja vu makes us feel crazy;
Makes us feel alive
We are divine.
Our lives are sublime.
They're not just coincidences, they're happening all the time!"

I've walked down that dark street before
Went up that drive-way and knocked on the door
When the house stirred, I let out a sigh
Ran away and forgot to hide

Wrote my name upon a wall
But the name was false, and the wall was small
Called out loud to the starlit sky
But no one heard my desperate cry

Fell inside and broke my heart
Then couldn't find the missing parts
Filled my glass at dawn and dusk
But we were far from giving up

A restless soul on sleepless nights
Took to words by candle light

There is no place in here to hide
So if you are me,
then who am I?

A Saint, a Sinner, a Child, a Lie.
A Cynic, a Critic, a regular guy.
A man with an idea that refuses to die,
but with a memory that fades
along with life.

I took the road less traveled by
Broke my heart then remembered to cry,
Thinking to myself
All the while:

I've

never

felt

so

Alive!

You can throw your mess into my mess and mix until we have a 17-car pileup with no need to clean because we'll be up to our knees in blood and guts.
We can cross flooded streets with lightning rods strapped to our backs  and pray for the rain to send us some thunderous crash.

If I told you that Jupiter views its moons through a stormy eye,
would you see red?

Who would've thought we'd survive.

Add your bricks to my bricks and we'll entomb our feet with wet cement while we wait for the water to rise.
Grab your bike with the taped over reflectors then we'll ride down one-lane bridges dressed as reapers in the night.
You can throw your mess in with my mess and let it stew until we've got a steaming trainwreck and no way to clean because we'll be up to our necks in blood and guts.

If I told you a new moon happens only once a month,
would you black out?

Who would've thought we'd see light.

A dusty trail fades into the dark.
A comet strikes a villain at his core.
A simple-minded walker contemplates the stars.
These trees are all reaching towards God.
How could one want more?

A torn spirit leaves its blood-stained mark,
with an echo that echoes.

I couldn't be me without you.