A history of stillness, a blood-line of mental illness
I'd rather be a fraud and be happy than be known as the realest
till the same dark day for my mother and my mother's mother
and Brooks; I can't get out of bed but I can write hooks
wife's a maniac but she's the only one that's still around
three in the afternoon on the sunny day layin' on the ground
I want to feel the way I felt when I was layin' with my dad
but I don't know if I want it that bad
I think about what I don't have
five days a week sad, other two just mad
six in the mornin' in the back of a cab
and I don't know if I want it that bad
It ain't non-stop to heaven there's a lay-over in hell
and I've been sittin' here for ten years talkin' and sayin' on the cell
you gotta be kiddin' me, I ain't signed up for this
and you wonder why Steaknife got scars on his wrist's
My heart got a black eye
sometime I get scared that I might cry
why do I pretend that I'm not shy
sometime all I can do is just stay high
I think about what I don't have
five days a week sad, other two just mad
six in the mornin' in the back of a cab
and I don't know if I want it that bad
what I've lost and what I've seen
all in order to fulfill my dreams
thought I had to be like my dad
but I don't know if I want it that bad
Water-fountains to the sidewalk, talk
can