Frustrated, hate it, I'm bitter and jaded,
but I know I always come around,
at least when the time's run out.
I know I'll finally cough up
the will to do the right thing for me,
or at least do my best --
when there's no other choice
and I've exhausted every
other concievable option,
if nothing else.
Yet I've got to admit, to my credit,
I'm getting better at pulling myself out
of these viscious shitstorms
I seem to be an artist at creating,
won't let it break me down.
Right now, I guess that maybe
I'm coming or going or standing still,
truth is I just can't fucking tell.
Need to just stand back and
laugh my ass off in spite of myself.
Step out and look back at myself.
This is exactly what you wanted at one point,
but every moment is filled with thoughts
of all you're going without.
How you're missing out.
Yet you say you haven't changed.
Rivers always move forward.
Looking over your shoulder continously
doesn't tend to make for better sailing,
especially in rapids like these.
When your so low, even
the ground is a tease.
Maybe you'll finally succomb
to not one, but all of your needs.
And if you can't stop this inner cyclone,
then keep spinning, and in the meantime
do your damnest to let go for
maybe it'll act to propel you to
something new and
just as liberating.
but I know I always come around,
at least when the time's run out.
I know I'll finally cough up
the will to do the right thing for me,
or at least do my best --
when there's no other choice
and I've exhausted every
other concievable option,
if nothing else.
Yet I've got to admit, to my credit,
I'm getting better at pulling myself out
of these viscious shitstorms
I seem to be an artist at creating,
won't let it break me down.
Right now, I guess that maybe
I'm coming or going or standing still,
truth is I just can't fucking tell.
Need to just stand back and
laugh my ass off in spite of myself.
Step out and look back at myself.
This is exactly what you wanted at one point,
but every moment is filled with thoughts
of all you're going without.
How you're missing out.
Yet you say you haven't changed.
Rivers always move forward.
Looking over your shoulder continously
doesn't tend to make for better sailing,
especially in rapids like these.
When your so low, even
the ground is a tease.
Maybe you'll finally succomb
to not one, but all of your needs.
And if you can't stop this inner cyclone,
then keep spinning, and in the meantime
do your damnest to let go for
maybe it'll act to propel you to
something new and
just as liberating.
