Say, what drives a narcissist to feed on their soul
Their own being, their whole, a cannibalistic role
I fold, into the answers that have never been told
Because I disagree that life is less than silver or gold
When I was young I was 'old', wiser than age would suggest
I never looked from a problem I never strayed from a test
I sought to better my self, pushing others away
Rising alone but never understanding how I would pay
Now look today and see a fate that I crafted off a clean slate
Into a plate of half consumed variables that I never ate
Or even paid any attention effectively painting dissention
And not to mention my descent into a mental detention
I locked my self in a prison of a dozen complications
A box full of games, puzzles and some mindless sedation
No relation to pain, bottomless gain and no patience
I snap at every ******* body for the beast I am facing
Imagine that you have a paper with some scribbles and lines
Now try erasing the marks so the paper's perfect - just try
It's impossible because you pretend to leave the past
There's always something there to make a scar that will last
So now because of my choices I sit alone with these voices
Saying "you could do better", to me they're nothing but noises
So now I write my emotions so that the world might just hold 'em
Just ignoring commotion 'cause you can pass 'em or smoke 'em
