I’m trying to rattle around
What’s left of my head on the ground
My brain falls out my ears
And it’s clear

This body is past its prime
Controlled by an ailing mind
As I piss away the years
And it’s clear
This year ain’t the first to get bad
Will you help or get sad

Snake oil or extant bliss
Each vice in the search endless
Leaves a mark on the veneer
And it’s clear

Abundance of evidence
Malevolent resonance
If I stow away the fear
And it’s clear
This year ain’t the first to get bad
Will you help or get sad

Every day know I mean what I say
That I try to pick myself up out the way
And if I fail I will fail big but that’s okay
Make every effort to resist the day’s malaise
And maybe clear
This fear