You ever sit in the bed looking up to the ceiling?
Drifting and wondering what's this your feeling?
Why won't these deep wounds start healing?
Why can't I break out this funk and just start living?
Going through life with your face rubbing on the sidewalk.
Doing the bare minimum, looking for an escape.
Tears, dirt, and blood across your face like molded chalk.
Screaming out why me, why me.
Events of life of an up-and-coming success.
Has dropped to earth like a cheap dress.
Sometimes life rolls the dice and comes up snake eyes.
And the potential of the roller goes bye bye bye.
The main event and aftershocks wrecked your foundation.
While you see others rolling 7's thanks to dice from Satan.
Yet here you are with nothing to roll.
Except now it's an opportunity to take control.
You can stand here at the opening pitch,
And extend your stance to the 9th inning.
Instead of pointing and spitting the blame on faith,
Grab a shovel and boots, dig out to solve your case.
That feeling of uselessness? Insert that into your fuel can.
When people question your act, splash the gas.
If the interview continues, ignite the spark into an inferno.
Now get back to digging cause it's starting to get cold.
A man who has nothing to lose is a dangerous alien.
One with a brain in active mode increases the danger to ten.
Ripping, tearing and clawing his way out of the hole.
Like those 49ers desperately looking for that slab of gold.
People can easily say 'Fuck The World' using their lips.
While people like you use action and steel tips.
You can make it out this rut but are you willing to work?
If so, keep digging.
I'll see you at the surface.
Cheers.
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