I'm just a tiny dying star in this universe.
Trying to find light inside the dark with my useless words.
Shoot the birds, and kill off all the wildlife.
Move the dirt for what it's worth,
and tell us we're gonna die tonight.
Lightning strikes, more often then you think it does.
If we got struck tonight, would anybody drink to us?
Or will we shrink to dust?
Leaving only ink to touch.
Always lost in thought...
Or we don't think enough.

There's too much ugly in my bloodstream.
It's either something lovely or unclean.
Now I can't tell if I want Heaven or Hell.
They poisoned our water and now they're selling the well.
Oh well.....

I'm a silent, dead key on a piano that's broken.
Anti-heroic unspoken poet no one will notice.
Hope's a thing with feathers.
And all of mine are plucked.
Float or sink forever it's better with eyes shut.
We can't see how minuscule we are.
A voice is pointless when it ridicules the stars.
Meaningless or meaningful,
There almost is no need to pull or push
if everyone's drowning, alarms are sounding,
and our hearts are pounding.

What if nothing is ever what it seems?
What if everyone is dead and we're all living in a dream?
This place is a science fiction novel written in second person,
by a guy who wasn't there that talked to a guy who observed it.

It takes too much concentration to have a conversation.
So shut the fuck up, or get stuck up in the constellations.
Conservation, has never been my strong point.
Out of gas, and out of road,
and into the wrong void.
What is the meaning of life?
Give me a reason to write.
A detrimental kiss from an existential devious knife.
If nothing matters and actions happen randomly,
let's agree we can't agree and go and start another family.

The meaning of life for me is being an artist.
Sleeping in garbage with unbelievable hardship.
But everything's fine this is exactly what I wanted.
If it wasn't well fuck it, I guess I've already done it.

Fate is a monster,
I'm always late to the concert.
Saying all the wrong words
and failing like clockwork.
I hate impostors,
but fear that I am one.
I'd like to conquer but it's clear I'm here and I can't run.
I wasted life trying to understand why I'm living it.
Another makeshift knife plunged into my skinny ribs.
Fate is a monster,
I'm always late to the concert.
Saying all the wrong words
and failing like clockwork.
I hate impostors,
but fear that I am one.
I'd like to conquer but it's clear I'm here and I can't run.
I wasted life trying to understand why I'm living it.
Another makeshift knife stuck in my significance.