The weights on my shoulders are something a grown man can't lift
I'm floating through the clouds with a icebox in my chest
so nothing can stop me because none of it hurts
fly with my broken wings before i end up in the dirt
holes in my knees,grass stains on my pants
everything i used to be turned me into what i am
and what i need more than anything is someone else to believe;
because the only person who sees what i see is me.
When i get there they'll pretend they all saw it the whole time
and i'll laugh in their face cause they cracked jokes in mine
so fuck what they said, and fuck what they think
i'll be in my dreams making a subconscious reality
I don't know how long it'll take
I don't know if they'll live to see it
But i hope they do.
I'm so strange compared to these human beings,
these zombies, they live for next week
but in my mind the only thing that exists is today.
There is no tomorrow, there is no success
because its really only what you make of it.
if its clear i'll drink it as long as it takes me away
if its rolled ill smoke it and document a note for the day
Am i the only one that lives in the moment?
Can we just live?
who the fuck are you to tell me who i am?
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