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We create wheel barrows full of sound for it to be dumped into a black hole: the bottomless abyss of bi-polar disorders A broken abacus down to good times Someone please write a post-it note to remind me why I'm doing this and when to pay the cable bill Won't talk about the cage, it's been touched on too much Besides, I'm seeing dead whales all too often which in itself is rather frightening Sad how bad times make good music Hope I can maintain this great depression and leave myself guessing if I can out do the former until the end We're all waiting for the payoff.. I have one, they have none, so I'm feeling rather lucky and guilty at the same time We all whistle a salty tune to ourselves for the world to hear and when it's time to capture memories the closest thing to a smile we can muster is a sneer And giving blood, sweat, and tears in exchange for cold sweat and fears is only equal to a tickled throat for so long So the songs lose excitement and loops become grating My being is scarred up and I can't keep myself from picking We turn pages and fight sore hands ADD addicts of abrasiveness joyriding through the same scene over and over Time and time again I'm asking myself why but I'm proud of the dust of twenty cities irritating my eyes Letras de canciones"All for what?" loops in my head I ain't fessin' 'til I'm dead or until everything is said She has bouquets of poppies spilling from her heart and I'm stuck here tapping my pen on my pad of paper wondering where to start I suppose this comes with the process and problems, getting by three reasons to do this: her, them, and I [Chorus:] Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it asking, "what are you doing?" Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it asking, "what are you thinking?" Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it asking, "where are you going?" Kicking myself, standing on the edge with a dumb look on, snapping out of it asking, "why?" On overcast days, I'm at one with myself but perhaps I should take advice from bumper stickers But seeing old guitarists on their farm with their children reminscing is that feeling that I'm missing from almost a year ago Back then, it was all about looking through the bullet holes and sighing Now it's snapping my fingers at Linus and smiling I guess it takes hard times to curl my fingers, not a fist but around this blue flex-grip asking, "do you think...?" Select a question to be answered in words that are next to nothing that's how I kept my sanity in the first half I feel like someone is passing hula-hoops down the length of my body yet the theater seats are empty, yet I still hear that laugh It takes a power outage to muster creativity just like tragedies and the commerce on the Stars and Stripes Who am I to say? I have problems getting a blank page moving just one of my insecurities that I suppose will come and go today All I can hear are the drums I search for that might be why the pens are mute at this point Sole says, "it's rubies and rabies," and lately I've been foaming at the mouth Can't put my finger on why my sleeves are sopping wet with possiblys and maybes This is the part where I repeat the last two lines of the song before the chorus to drive across my point This is the part where I repeat the last two lines of the song before the chorus to drive across my point? [Chorus] From Letras Mania