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Description
The simplest things are the biggest let downs.
Unknown triggers ready to be pulled with vengeance.
You can’t tear your hair out, can’t escape.
You can’t kick and scream like a child.
It’s not acceptable.

So it goes… the curious case of the conscious dreamer.
Reality blurs, you can’t even escape through the endless sea
Of the subconscious, now more like a crack, an abyss.

Little crooked creatures crawl from the cracks
Unwanted, unknown, no origin things
Your crooked passengers sharing this vessel.

They skitter about like spiders trapped in a glass jar, finding no purchase
to take permanent hold, but this doesn’t make them exist any less.

But no matter how much you want to rip out of this
This ridiculous fleshy package that holds you too tightly
You can’t, it’s not acceptable.

You can scratch the skin with blunt nails all you please
Tug slightly on stands of thin, wild hair
But you can never break the surface of this prison
This prison that holds you so dear.

So burn on the inside, feel the itch, the sting
The confinement of tissue, bone, muscle, physical being.
All your passion, all this feeling, it doesn’t make it past your mind.
Now there is nothing left to do but burn out.

Description
The simplest things are the biggest let downs.
Unknown triggers ready to be pulled with vengeance.
You can’t tear your hair out, can’t escape.
You can’t kick and scream like a child.
It’s not acceptable.

So it goes… the curious case of the conscious dreamer.
Reality blurs, you can’t even escape through the endless sea
Of the subconscious, now more like a crack, an abyss.

Little crooked creatures crawl from the cracks
Unwanted, unknown, no origin things
Your crooked passengers sharing this vessel.

They skitter about like spiders trapped in a glass jar, finding no purchase
to take permanent hold, but this doesn’t make them exist any less.

But no matter how much you want to rip out of this
This ridiculous fleshy package that holds you too tightly
You can’t, it’s not acceptable.

You can scratch the skin with blunt nails all you please
Tug slightly on stands of thin, wild hair
But you can never break the surface of this prison
This prison that holds you so dear.

So burn on the inside, feel the itch, the sting
The confinement of tissue, bone, muscle, physical being.
All your passion, all this feeling, it doesn’t make it past your mind.
Now there is nothing left to do but burn out.