The self-infected state of mind A one-man struggle beneath the tower I think the clock still exists God just forgot to tap my shoulder
I woke up today I wish I felt something The odour of my apathy Just might be true
I want to be the things I see The pilgrim that is me But I know I ain't that free The suburban that is me
Spirits rise and miss the eye Covered by the stench of judgement As gods reflection tests my pride I serve the failure that's haunting me
Twisted visions torturing Who claims to be the one? That filtered smile Just might be true
I want to be the things I see The pilgrim that is me But I know I ain't that free The suburban that is me
On half-speed tonight I suffer Satisfaction brings the unheeded
Can you hear the message As I wrestle with the clouds? I'm on the way to succumb It just might be true
I want to be the things I see The pilgrim that is me But I know I ain't that free The suburban that is me
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