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social anxiety - busysignalonthesuicidehotline كلمات الأغنية

there’s this monster that lives under my bed
but he’s really just an idea that lives in my head
from all the doom and gloom that causes me to twitch
this music is like chicken soup for the sick…
go home little boy, this lifestyle is a ploy
you’ve made your bed, time to sleep in it boy
i’m erratic and dramatic and adjusting to bad habits
when i give you a chance to quell this madness
it’s habitual, insurmountable, and unaccountable
when i try to unravel the past and all it counted for
what is it that i adore?
love is the only thing that i implore for
i have spent my time moving forward
while taking three steps back towards the door
and if i take another four steps more
i know which end i’m heading towards
to my bitter demise, under a pale blue sky
i met my end in her brown eyes
and if i must say, it’s a fitting way to die
halfway through a seventeen mile drive
when all you wanted to do was embrace the night
with good company and a jar of moonshine
but isn’t it just like me to focus on the past?
when i known d-mn well there’s no going back
i’ve been looking for someone to cut me some slack
but i guess there’s no one who’s up for the task
my antics are frantic when i try to reinvent the static
and turn it into music to soothe my panic
but i swear i’m drastically demanding in my tactics
when i don’t resort to being sycophantic
but leave it to me to come off as romantic
when this darkness embeds all of my actions

you asked me, “how long will we be alone?”
i replied, “until you’ve really learned to let go”
you found comfort in the wisdom of a gentle soul
with the capacity to make his agony show
my arms are the place where bleeding hearts go
to find the seeds of comp-ssion that i have sown
little did i know, there was always room to grow
despite all of the inner workings of my woe
and woe is me, i’m a living tragedy
at least that’s what i’ve led myself to believe
i keep coming apart at the seams for the world to see
but everyone who watches just ignores my pleas
my life is anti-climactic – i’m the sum of my bad habits
when i put my pain into words it comes out like magic
but when i’m at my worst it’s little more than a distraction
and when i’m at my best i am bleeding with p-ssion
i’m a liar who carries around honest intentions
a teacher exploring never before seen methods
you’ve got some scars you’ve failed to mention?
we’ve all been through h-ll in our own dimension
i keep holding on to an idea of what never was
the fall from this height feels like a crush
i swear i’d do anything to just fall in love
but i keep avoiding the inevitable plunge
and that kind of fear is inherent in me
every living creature dies alone it seems
i’ve been known to write messages that come out depressing
in an effort to keep your eyes from undressing me
because letting you get close is something to avoid
now tell me what’s left of me that i haven’t destroyed?
i keep painting my life through words in a different hue
while everyone around me bows out and bids adieu
if i thought this were hopeless i wouldn’t go below this
i keep trying to recreate a sort of bliss that i’ve imploded
and i’m one part awkward; two parts manic
when i’m itching for these songs to come out organic
but i know this feeling in my chest won’t leave so easily
because the heart in me started to corrode recently
it just doesn’t work when i try to control everything
but nowadays i’d like to think i’m on the upswing
i’m a master of the art of knowing when to disappear
but i’d be a fool to think that i am in the clear
you’ve been searching for someone whose meanings were sincere
but i’m just fighting for the chance to finally cohere
cuz all i ever wanted was to feel like i belonged
but now all i want to do is get up and move on
the bitterest parts of me keep coming out in songs
in a last ditch effort to make them move along

- social anxiety

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