Never been the one to talk
Always been the one to walk by myself
As I talk to myself
Like a bump in a log keep my thoughts to myself
Let me off right here where it's dark but it helps
To relieve any thoughts of me offing myself
Dissention, closing dimensions
Did I mention my visions pint it
But the tensions clipping
I keep it all to myself
Thrown in water, thrown in fire
My desires journey to a level higher
Hear the voices, hear the choir
Fear the gospels, fear the sirens
I am passed my threshold in the den of the lion
Silent, try not to trip the wire
Go crazy
If these angels lift my grandmamma up from Gaia

So I march to Zion with my blinders on
Please turn it up it's my kinda song
Hard at hearing, not at home
I ride alone
Gone where sane and the insane meet
Gone where the dreams are for real, can't sleep
Gone where the paranoia's grown
And the serotonin's strong in my body
And the pain is deep
Ain't it sweet
So it seems
(Exhale) Check my pulse, breathe
Moving at my own speed
Part of me is of that cold breed
Pardon me and all my nose bleeds
My soul needs peace in the holding tank
How much shit am I suppose to take?


When I go in my mind
It's an easy way to get away
When I go in my mind
I don't want to turn off the lights


See, it's often troublesome to start
Pen drags, but direction, it lacks
And direction is needed for me to be at least
Remotely pleased with the track
So back I go,
Peddling through the scribbled-up papers
Lookin' for a line to save me and
Be my hero
It used to happen all the time, but it really hasn't done so lately
I gotta keep movin'
I can't keep my demons at bay or appease anyone that I love
For it's never enough, anything that I do
So the writing distracts and remains the essential tool of my arsenal
I can't believe I ever let a single motherfucker render me inaudible
And maybe that's why I'm speaking at a pace
That I won't slow down, no matter what you say

I shouldn't be pointing fingers
I should be pointing the ink
To the blank of the bone-white pages 'til they're all stained
Goddammit it, it feels like I ain't rhyme for ages
'Cause I'm always thinking a bunch
But a lot of the times, I tend to hate it
"It" meaning the rhyme, if the rhyme in question
Is egregiously articulated
Yeah, it's a domino effect from there
The pen will stop moving and I just won't care
If I finish a verse that is halfway done
Or put a hurt on my lungs beyond repair
This ongoing battle of decision-making is an understated fact
And just when I've all but lost every ounce of my hope
Something clicks in my head and I roar on back