too many weeds in the flowers
too many pills in the pharmacys now
too many bugs in the shower
theres too much shit in the air we breathe
now

theres too much anger inside me
theres too much scarring when i bleed
thers too much therapy i need
there is not god that i have seen

theres too much doubt in my moms words
theres too much fear in the way she sees life
i wonder if i'm just like her
i wonder if i can make myself right

you try to help
you listen well
you cannot change the way i see