What if nothing ever seemed to phase me?
What if I dreamed up I was untouchable?
What if I just completely bypassed crazy,
And started smashing through all these rubber walls?
It could be that I'm coming unhinged,
Could be I was never hinged to begin with.
Maybe I have demons by the hundreds
In my skull, mutiplying by the minute.
It's always 4:20 somewhere on Earth,
And happy hour's only one drink away,
Every day, any time. For what it's worth,
It's hard to live life this way;
But living the straight life's worse.
What if it's never as bad as I claim?
Maybe my empty mug is filled to the brim,
Filled with all the poisons that drive me sane;
Daily doses of black market medicine.
It could be that I'm imagining things,
Could be my imagination's running scared,
Terrified by random, rambling rantings
I recite in my sleep while dreaming nightmares.
I'm completely off-schedule with my meds;
Got a mind to repair, but there's time to spare.
I'm too busy taking time to see red,
Turn green with envy and share
Thoughts blacker than pencil lead.
What if it's fake? Maybe I'm surrounded
By the lies I've made, painted in shades of gray
On six hundred sixty six graves, counted
On a rainy day that drowned flowers in May.
And the rain turned into tremendous floods
That washed away each and every monument
Of civilization's existence, cuz
I'd be happy with just me and these moments.
Maybe I don't want to reveal my hand
To everyone with their chips on the table.
Maybe make them think I'm too weak to stand,
Even when I'm capable
Of standing atop quicksand.
