My tired body, a broken design.
A latent desire, no need for mine.
I breathe/sleep benign.
I'm knee-deep in line,
I reach reach for higher and higher to climb
Falling down seems lighter and lighter each time
All I need is to fight it but I'm
So broke. So mediocre. Poised to choke. Sure, I'm no closer.
But I'm a halfway decent old punching bag.
Philosophy with a thesis only told in halves.
An abrasive theologist who points and laughs
But when his god strikes he's the only one who feels the wrath
The last laugh in the aftermath of dog-eat-dog
The weak survive hanging with all the other cats.
So which way will the lots be cast?
Am I destined to travel such a narrow path?
Have I branched out? Can I branch out? Should I branch out?
Quantum Theory only works in labs.
I feel it, it's coming to an end.
The end, I killed it. No bullet, just a pen.
A pen, I need it. The means to reach an end.
The end, I feel it. Singularity instead.

Perfect, beautiful, annihilation.

I'm feeling crushed by the weight of the water I'm underneath.
Growing tired of the fakers that lie to me through their teeth,
With their shit-eating grins and their high-held chins
And their cheap wolf-skin. I just want to be free.
I let the stars be my guide (Be still, my beating heart.)
I got the noose tied tight, and I'm falling apart.
I let the light soak in, try to hold back my dark,
But the medicine is failing. I was doomed from the start.
So down I go, the rabbit hole is leading me to safety
But the peace I know is horrible - my mind is always racing -
Like my mind, I hide behind my walls
I build them up to watch them fall.
I never felt so awful, like it's my annihilation.
Now I'm letting go of all the bullshit I keep in tow.
I'm stepping into The Great Unknown
It feels so perfect and beautiful.
Every song I write is a reflection of the pain that I feel each night
And in the morning light I see my face for what it truly is.
I'm a coward only hiding where the beauty lives.
An outsider standing on the edge of certainty,
Should I take one more step? Certainly.
I always feel like I'm cheating death,
Or treading water. So I hold my breath.


I can't sleep at night, trying to brave these city lights.
They shine like galaxies.. Infinite.. Woe is me.
I start to convalesce and slip into the nothingness.
Now consciousness is just another name for emptiness.