I live on an island. 
Just me and my 2.3 million thoughts. 

It's getting crowded here,
I looked to the right,
 and the money worries are in sight 

I turn a corner,
 there's housing waiting for an order 

I spin around to the sound of my Independence,
 crying with fear,
 she may be about to be taken away 

I look up and see my capabilities questioning me 

I need my thoughts to stop all talking 
This island is too full. 
I want to get off 

My finances are taking a hit 
It's not my fault,
 Not one bit 

I can't take on anymore. My Island is about to sink 

On the count of three… just stop.