Galveston

Scared of my own image
Scared of my own immaturity
Scared of my own ceiling
Scared I'll die of uncertainty
Fear might be the death of me
Fear leads to anxiety
Don't know what's inside of me

Gnawing on the bishops
Claw our way up their system
Repeating simple phrases
Someone holy insisted
I want the markings (made) on my skin
To mean something to me again
I seem to have lost my friend, please
Hope you haven't left without me

Tеmpeture is dropping
Tempеture is dropping
I'm not sure if I can
See this ever stopping
Shaking hands with the dark parts
of thoughts, no
No, you are all that I've got, no
Off to side:
Don't forget about me
Even when I doubt you
I'm no good without you