Swallow down my jealousy,
for this just doesn't belong to me.
Try not to change subjects into objects,
try not to give into my sense of greed.
Wait, do you hear that rythmic sound?
Am I going up or going down?
Its a matter of perspective, lost here in space.
Got to find firm ground to stand on,
if I float long enough I'm sure to find my place.
But explaining my inhibitions, it just
doesn't seem to aid in conquering.
My ambivalence is clear as day to me,
but it doesn't spawn reconcilliation.
Can't uncrack an egg, so why do I
gather this bridge's smitherines?
I fear that understanding's
not the route but the destination,
not a means but the blinking neon dead end.
That there really is no doorway out of this;
that I'm just molesting the walls
of my prison, getting to know them.
You can cage the monster, perhaps,
but you can never fucking kill it.
They say they tame these animals,
truth is they only can only lock and
bolt and break their spirits.
You can hold it down with all your might,
but it only increases the inevitable explosion,
and what's a few puny release valves
going to do now?
Fools believe that faith
can move mountains,
and if you don't believe me,
then go ahead, just try it.
The wiser know that its
bullshit, but without
belief in your potential, you
won't even try to climb it.
I will make my own way,
and I will dream of my objects of greed
in the meantime.
What's that rythmic sound?
I swear I can still hear
a clock ticking somewhere.
The damage is done, this damage
you're sure you can't manage.
You just postpone the inevitable,
you know there's really no way out.
And so freedom becomes nothing short
of a mushroom cloud.
for this just doesn't belong to me.
Try not to change subjects into objects,
try not to give into my sense of greed.
Wait, do you hear that rythmic sound?
Am I going up or going down?
Its a matter of perspective, lost here in space.
Got to find firm ground to stand on,
if I float long enough I'm sure to find my place.
But explaining my inhibitions, it just
doesn't seem to aid in conquering.
My ambivalence is clear as day to me,
but it doesn't spawn reconcilliation.
Can't uncrack an egg, so why do I
gather this bridge's smitherines?
I fear that understanding's
not the route but the destination,
not a means but the blinking neon dead end.
That there really is no doorway out of this;
that I'm just molesting the walls
of my prison, getting to know them.
You can cage the monster, perhaps,
but you can never fucking kill it.
They say they tame these animals,
truth is they only can only lock and
bolt and break their spirits.
You can hold it down with all your might,
but it only increases the inevitable explosion,
and what's a few puny release valves
going to do now?
Fools believe that faith
can move mountains,
and if you don't believe me,
then go ahead, just try it.
The wiser know that its
bullshit, but without
belief in your potential, you
won't even try to climb it.
I will make my own way,
and I will dream of my objects of greed
in the meantime.
What's that rythmic sound?
I swear I can still hear
a clock ticking somewhere.
The damage is done, this damage
you're sure you can't manage.
You just postpone the inevitable,
you know there's really no way out.
And so freedom becomes nothing short
of a mushroom cloud.
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