I woke up, to search for an honest person to talk to.
Yet everyone who claimed to be
said they have never been confused
So I just gave up.
And when the rats in the alley
Band together for warmth
Their tails tangle together and get stuck
While they die trying to get away.
I’m diving into crowds
for just a little bit of warmth
And now my tail is stuck.
Please Please Please
There’s a panic of a plague
And we are the ones
Trying to escape.
I woke up, to people with larger problems than me.
So large I could see them protruding from their backs
On white washed walls
They said they’d just gave up.
And when the doctors in the next room
came to give them medicine,
They said they couldn't imagine life without it.
They have been living like this their entire lives,
And now their tails are stuck.
Track Name: my brain is now a scab
People say to be yourself but
My self has many different facets,
And each side has rounded its edges.
I have become a dull stone.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I've been picking my brain to see if I was buried inside,
My brain is now a scab.
I’m peeling off the scabs and eating them desperately
To get my mind back, to gain some other thoughts
Aside from the replaying sequence of failures and what ifs
That scar up when I don’t leave my brain.
Hopefully I’ll wear myself out a little more
And drift into a better dream.
Then I’ll be able to talk coherently after a full night’s rest,
And talk about how that last week was a nightmare,
And I’ll be able to focus on the words flowing from another one’s mouth,
Rather than have a desperate chuckle and a furrowed brow.
Track Name: Vitus
I thought the panic ended, its only just begun.
The voices in my head tell me everything is fine,
Then why am I so restless at night?
I’m smiling, dancing in a daze
to the sound of the clock ticking away each day
And when that smile disappears
My nerves keep dancing full of fear.
I thought my mind was like a history book,
And I thought way too hard in school.
As I kept reading through my mind, I would analyze and teeth grind.
I’m thinking of the middle ages again, of how the nerves worked of
Peasants with chorea
and I’m a peasant with chorea
Trapped in a rerun of the middle ages.
Dancing under the statue of Vitus.
Losing all of my senses
Foaming at the mouth
Due South. Due South. Due South.
I thought of what makes me happy,
When I was a kid my mother would turn on the radio
And dance me in circles to put me to sleep.
She said dancing was something to keep.
I was happy with nothing to know
But the beat that matched my steady blood flow.
Let Go. Let Go. Let Go.