This is it, I’ve fucking had it and I’m losing my composure
I’m too grown up for this bullshit to be sold upon my shoulders
As I have grown much older and flip back through all these folders
These lines and folds inside the mind that grow as I grow colder
I can see a lonely soldier standing firm like hes a boulder
Unwaivering so patiently while the ashes smolder
He hates to scream and hates to bleed but he has been the holder
Of whatever’s in his head again, those things he hasn’t told her
So, exposure is the path he’s chosen, spilling out my heart again
I don’t have a fucking clue about the middle or the start or end
But before I fall apart again, I will fall back to this art and then
Pour it out onto the page and pray this aging heart will mend
Cause I have felt the scars, my friend, the pain before collection
I have painted every picture as a way to gain protection
From the people who just disagree and make me face rejection
From the very fucking people that have made this rage a blessing
But fuck these games of guessing, I should simply just explain it
That way everybody understands the picture that I’ve painted
I have not come all this way and I have not done all this waiting
To be mixed up in a party of the burned out and the wasted
Cause let’s face it, you had tasted it and become one of the faceless
And I hate it with a passion and the rage that it’s been laced with
And I won’t have any patience and I will not be complacent
I don’t care who might be in the room, I’ll make the whole night famous
Cause these paces that I’m walking, they are energized by passion
Enough to make me stand up to whatever shit might happen
If my actions burn the whole world down and every room you died in
Then I can rest so peacefully and erase what does my mind in