Quid & TomBombGrenade
In The Way
And once again it seems
I'm at the end of my rope; hang it up, jump; best if i don't
Directly hide behind this mess. Commence with letting it show
Expose the whole truth as proof my efforts never were known
To not be genuine or any less competitive
Than any of those considered 'the rest' in this depressive yet
Obsessive collective where pressures never end and pleasures
End upon entrance. I'm seeking a change
Or rearrangement in the sequence; seems instead the control
Is out of my hands; it's not in my grasp; in fact
It's got me steadily contemplating how to react; I can't
And so I'm stuck, my luck has once again run dry
I must adjust and trust my pen's supply
Of ink hasn't done the same; think as I thumb each page
Of my own book and look towards the brink of sinking, numb to pain
'what's to gain?' is still the question resting on my troubled brain
The more I glimpse, the less convinced I become that nothing's changed
'Cause nothing remains except for the change
The only true constant is 'never the same.'
It goes sit up and get out, we get up, they sit down
You've heard these sort of words before, it doesn't change a thing about
Their meaning. Seems that something's always in the way
But I still know the song
It goes sit up and get out, we get up, they sit down
You've heard these sort of words before, it doesn't change a thing about
Their meaning. Seems that something's always in the way
And I still know
Because there comes a
Time in every life to find a wider lens to spy
A better idea of why we cannot seem to separate ourselves
From pride that when we try, all irony aside
We often end up casualties of that which we have made, and well
It's sad to see a masterpiece collapsing on its own creator
Suffocation underway; all sanity just floats away, more
Accurately slowly fades to black as passion overtakes
The facts remain smacking back, impacting fast at closer range
Caught in a crossfire, walking across open graves;
Calling all cross-hairs, hauling a loss where only those devoted stay
Holed up. Hold up, don't delay; don't adjust the focus, pay
Attention instead and soon the message will spread
With the clarity required to be acceptably read
And to merit the severity of catching what's said
It's all significant; everything I've written is deliberate
Delivered with conviction to further commit to this
It goes sit up and get out, we get up, they sit down
You've heard these sort of words before, it doesn't change a thing about
Their meaning. Seems that something's always in the way
But I still know the song
It goes sit up and get out, we get up, they sit down
You've heard these sort of words before, it doesn't change a thing about
Their meaning. Seems that something's always in the way
And I still know, no matter what they say