[Chorus]
If you don't make a lot of money then you don’t make sense
If you can't push units then you're not worth their expense
If you’re not writing singles then you're not worth their lead
If you don't dance to their tune they'll get someone else instead
You swear you're underground, and it fits, rest in peace
You're so underground, and it fits, rest in peace

[Verse 1]
This artist is starving for a peace of direction without spreading the infection
Being quartered is not exactly my ideal Saturday activity
But if it gives you satisfaction then tie me up and begin the subtraction
I know you need a pattern to fill your life up with
To give you boundaries, and to keep yourself coloring in between the lines
Hi, I'm Dan, been feeling 5 foot eleven feet small
I've got tired eyes and calloused ears, and accomplishments that make my failures look tall
We’re all just selfish superficial marionettes putting on the show like a good little cadet
Follow me because I’ve found a hole in the net, of this prison
I see that hand and I hope you can see mine, and I hope you can see fine
Because this is where it all starts to get foggy
Weaving in and out of a labyrinth of Muppets with cheese as our reward
And I'm not talking about money
Honey this is life and I know we’ve all got goals
But let's just be realistic and work on strengthening our own souls
W e all know that we are all hollow, filled with sand sleeping next to the waters edge
For the future when I have questions, I'll simply open up my heart instead
[Verse 2]
Heads sleep on me like I'm the softest of pillows
Like I’m willow standing in a crowd of big birds in the black forest of weeping willows snoring
Ignoring my pleas for accountability
Like making insomniacs sleep deep
And keeping you from filling blank sheets with half lies and contradictions
There's nothing fiction about my science
Cascading into the deepest of chasms lying at the ground level of a new world of malcontent actors
Irritating the scalp of every head around and always faking out faster
Trying to dig a place for yourself with the only skills you can spin
I know you can't help but want to win, but you just can't my friend
As the needle tears its holes into you the thinnest of fragile skins
Causing light to dry up your small gooey box of hopes, dreams, hurts, goals, and ambitions
You descend inwardly only to concoct the most harmful of spells
Spit like crossbow darts to the heart of this wild boar with wishes to be sent to hell
And I just wanted to share my little humble opinions

[Verse 3]
Everybody's got a hand out
They hand it out and stand there watching with their hand out waiting
It's not like I'm so big that I can't fill some hearts
But behind every piece of art that gets bought is an artist that gets fed
No doubt, debating whose needs are to be met
It's my luxury to make the music that I want
And that your gonna need, but you just don't know it yet
I've said a lot of words but not nearly enough to empty my drive towards respect
You'll get your chance to speak
I just hope it's something that you and I both won't regret
We've got a lot of people trying to multitask
Their so talented at their own tasks and even still they try to rap, how embarrassing
Arms up and heads down, thoughts not occupied
And even still they try and critique sound
See, I'm the weathered pen warrior digging trenches through closed ears and minds
Injecting gallons of ink into your empty waterbed mattress of a brain
So you can get to sleep just fine, and soundly as I write this line
Goodnight last breath, goodnight