I’ve been wearing a mask and telling lies
to anyone who will listen in this town,
and sunglasses can hide your tired eyes
but they can not hide your frown.
I’ve been saying all the right words
every day and on repeat,
the song blends in with the birds
and the traffic on the street.
I’ve been lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
Every book I’ve read
just says the same things that you said.
I’ve been lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.
I’ve been walking with a limp and a crutch
even though my legs are working just fine.
And I’m always thinking but never say too much,
but I will never turn down a line.
I’ve been speaking all the wrong thoughts in my head,
but no matter what I do they seem to never go away.
I’ve tried replacing them with the righteous ones instead,
but it’s tantamount cause the instinctive ones just stay.
I’m lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
The sunlight I dread,
I much prefer the nighttime instead.
I’m lying in bed,
starving though I’ve just been fed.
I’m lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.
I didn’t get to choose the colours for my painting, but I swore that I tried my very best.
And what do you do when you hate your creation?
Do you hang it up with the rest?
I packed for a trip with no return
but skipped bringing anything essential,
I had to walk a path just so I could learn
that every action is consequential.
And I’ll tell you now that even the right type of misery can be happiness
it all depends on what you yourself choose to feel.
Nothing is perfect so it’s best to embrace the mess,
it can be imaginary but we both know it’s real.
I’m lying in bed,
arguing with the silence in my head.
Every single layer I shed
is consumed by ink and lead.
I’m lying in bed,
hoping for a second chance with each med.
I’m lying in bed,
thinking I’d be better off dead.