Talking To Myself

Dark place with the glock aimed
Ain’t a tame thought in the way
Faced lead shots, taste great

Sippin’ at the glass filled with 9s I feel I might blast
Trippin’ thinkin’ this moment is the last

Chill, it ain’t a crime to feel bad

But it’s like I’ve had more than enough time to go mad
A rough road and grip slippin’ on the cut rope
Stuck hope wishing, can’t cope
If I go missin’ no one’ll know, the Earth won’t stop its roll

This ain’t a new feelin’
You’re just dealing with repressed demons
They’re creepin’, keep seepin’ through the crack peekin’
Speakin’ to the your inner thoughts and your dreams that they haunt
Intentions to freak you out when from the shadows they scream and shout
Drought of the good days, dark thoughts replay
They’ve plotted out what they’ll say and anticipate how you’ll behave
It’s rouse, the truth is that good news lies at the end of the tunnel
The struggle leads through a path of rubble
A mountain and a climb, fighting evil the whole time
Harpies and vultures, from time to time a poacher