There's something wrong these days. I'm running on an empty tank and you can't fill up on pain. If that was the case I'd never, no I'd never need anything. I'm like a clock without a face spinning aimlessly in space. I'm spinning on and on and on. This is my life laid on a plate and I hate the fucking taste. It's a civil war I just can't battle anymore.
Been trapped in this hole for so many years and I've been searching for a shovel, for my surface, for my view. And I won't find them anytime soon. If I keep thinking too much this hole will fill up.
It's not the first time but it's the worst time and I feel like I'm out of sight out of mind. I let it pass me by. It's crazy to think that I have lived over half my life And I'm not even twenty five. It's 11:12 and I didn't make a wish. I've been driving through tunnels without holding my breath. I've been walking under ladders, And I've been throwing mirrors just so I can watch them shatter.
And in case you didn't know this I've been down on my luck. And in case you haven't noticed I am set to self destruct.
I've been desperate for changes but I've been looking in all the wrong places.
(I went looking for the man upstairs, but he just wasn't there. Well it's time that I change my ways 'cause this shit just isn't working out for me. It's time that I start giving a fuck. It's time that I start picking myself up. Cause' this Puerto Rican/Italian is a rambling man. I'm a gambling man. And even if the odds are against me, I'm gonna take my chance. If I die, I just ask one thing: make sure this shit keeps playing.)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
