He sat lounged back in the chair
The sun shing into his face
Almost as if he had been hit by mace
Yet he didn’t care

There was a point in life where he did
But time took care of that
So, he just sits there with his hat
With nothing left to bid

Even the smallest piece of paradise he still stresses
He works too much to know how to live
And he lives too little to give
It’s his normal for life to be a mess

One day his body will die
For his spirit has been long gone
He himself has become a pawn
A crippled bird who can no longer fly

Turn on the sounds that wash over my mind,
The sun slips through the windowpanes and past the blinds.
A happy tune on a sunny gloom,
Rise and shine on a catchy line.

Hooked, line and still sinking,
A morning filled with empty thinking.
Tea’s gone cold, barely taste the food anymore,
Everything blurred by the rush of anxiety
Too many things, too many questions, too-- too -- t—

---

Turn the music up.  
That's better.

I've been on the drugs,
Broken arms with the medicine,
Thrown in a hole I never dug,
They say the white walls are for my betterment.

They say it's for the pain,
Say it's for your head.
It must be on the outside,
Inside I feel dead.

Somebody pressed mute on the radio,
Now my volume dial's broke on the stereo.
Nobody hears me scream,
That I wish I could let go.
I wish I could grab ahold.

Looking in the mirror but I don't see me,
Just confusion and some emptiness,
Shakespearean with no remedy.
Woe is me, oh where is me?
I feel like I used to be a better me.

Now my volume dial's broke on the stereo.
Nobody hears me scream,
I wish I could let go.
I wish I could grab ahold

Another one down,
Another one drank.
Another time you tell me I'm fine.
Another time I wish I was.

I guess I'm not dead...