I live on an island.
Just me and my 2.3 million thoughts.

It's getting crowded here,
I looked to the right,
and the money worries are in sight

I turn a corner,
there's housing waiting for an order

I spin around to the sound of my Independence,
crying with fear,
she may be about to be taken away

I look up and see my capabilities questioning me

I need my thoughts to stop all talking
This island is too full.
I want to get off

My finances are taking a hit
It's not my fault,
Not one bit

I can't take on anymore. My Island is about to sink

On the count of three… just stop.