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All of the time I'm thinking 'bout things too much
And then I end up out of touch, and feel a lot less real than before
I speak a lot of words but tend to say a lot less
I'm just a fucking mess and I will shut my bedroom door

And as I iron out my brain to speak to ice cream stains
I'll stare at the ceiling stars and ponder why life's so hard
Locking the door, I will talk to my floor, and I'll say

Oh, my friend, I'm not sure what to do
To get out of this goo, that I absorb
How to stop myself? Hell, if I know
As above, so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb

Most of the time I'm scooping mud and digging graves
In the salt water caves and overgrown hospitals, the like
Stumble on the way to tell the frogs and toadstools about how I hate this body
And they'll say, oh they'll say

We would like to help you, but it seems your living in dreams, come back to reality
I'll cry wait and I will wake up late again

And in the morning once more, I will speak to the floor and I'll say

Oh, my friend, I'm not sure what to do
To get out of this goo, that I absorb
How to stop myself? Hell, if I know
As above so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb
As above so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb

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