When everything runs at a hectic pace
and you wonder if you'll ever pay your debts
And you wonder if you'll ever be the kind of person you always wanted to be
And you wonder why red lights make you so angry?
And you say when I finally get a grip on this axe of mine
I'm gonna chop down all the bad fruit that's hanging on this vine
I'm gonna see the sun not hide in this well of depression, hate and self absorption
But there I go singing about myself again
I'm sick of talking about myself why don't you talk about me?
Please lick my wounds treasure my wounds
Then try to fill this black hole I think is a cross shape
When I try to sleep at night I feel like a traffic cop try'na hold
Back all the traffic of thought that sits like a peak hour madness in
My soul and I spin like some sick kind of ferris wheel tipped
On the ground and spinning around
Slow down why don't you slow down