I like to think I’m still awaiting the better phase
My mind’s so clouded
My brain’s completely shrouded
Seems like I brought a hedge trimmer to a concrete maze
I like crossing the road without looking both ways
Might as well close my eyes
Haven’t seen the sun for days
I’m walking circles in this concrete maze
Wearing grooves in all my yesterdays
Every turn just looks the same
I’m so clouded
I’m so clouded
Waiting on a better phase
Making maps on broken pages
Trying to draw a door
in this concrete maze
I like to pretend I still care about the people around me
to witness their false hope
It’s like being in a play with cheap actors
barely standing on wobbly chairs while I tighten the ropes
Forced politeness is the greatest insult you’ll ever receive
I’d rather retreat in silence and be sincere
without expressing my hate or attempts to deceive
Spare me your “kindness” – Lie to my face
Lend me your numbness – Pain without trace
Show me your darkness – Enlighten my soul
Share me your sickness – I’ll pay the toll
You know what keeps me awake?
You can’t use rope to catch a snake
I’m walking circles in this concrete maze
Wearing grooves in all my yesterdays
Every turn just looks the same
I’m so clouded
I’m so clouded
Waiting on a better phase
Making maps on broken pages
Trying to draw a door
in this concrete maze
So I sit and negotiate with shadows on my wall
arguing in circles till my reasons start to crawl
Every quiet hour is a jury with no judge
sentencing my memories while the corners never budge
I water plastic flowers just to prove that I still try
then blame the rain for every tear that never leaves my eye
If hope’s a loaded dice then let it tumble where it may
I’ll gamble with my restlessness and pawn another day
I like to think one dawn I’ll step outside this frame
wear a different face and answer to another name
walk into the crowd and feel the weight of being seen
without the need to shrink myself to fit their in-between
Until that fragile flicker turns to something I can hold
I’ll dance with all my doubts and call it growing old
I’m walking circles in this concrete maze
Wearing grooves in all my yesterdays
Every turn just looks the same
I’m so clouded
I’m so clouded
Waiting on a better phase
Making maps on broken pages
Trying to draw a door
in this concrete maze
Now I trace escape routes on the ceiling late at night
arrows made of cobwebs pointing nowhere out of sight
I draft my resignation from the person I’ve become
sign it with a shaky hand and swallow back my tongue
If healing is a language, then I’m still on page one
sounding out the syllables of things I’ve never done
So if you see me smiling with that distant vacant gaze
just know I’m still rehearsing how to walk beyond this maze
I’m walking circles in this concrete maze
Wearing grooves in all my yesterdays
Every turn just looks the same
I’m so clouded
I’m so clouded
Waiting on a better phase
Making maps on broken pages
Trying to draw a door
in this concrete maze
In this concrete maze
