Sometimes I piss myself off,
Cause I often repeat past mistakes.
Rejecting the real, but trusting in fakes,
Diving head first into puddles, thinking that they’re lakes.
And though I should slam on the brakes,
I race in the wrong direction.
Upon reflection, I feel like a Sam Roberts song
Cause “I’m on a bridge to nowhere and I’m getting there fast”
And I wish that I could put in the past, but these self-destructive tendencies tend to last.

I’m frustrated that I know the right way, but I turn left
And I’m left lost in the wilderness inside myself.
I wander aimlessly through my inner geography,
Trying to navigate by the stars but I don’t know astronomy.
And after hours of walking in geocentric self-centered circles
I’m forced to admit: I can’t find my way home.
But I stubbornly refuse to use my cell phone
I could call for help but I want to make it on my own.
You see, I’m ashamed, cause “Search and Rescue” knows my name,
And they always find me in the same place.
They always find me in the same valley of the same shadow of the same death,
And I just wish that I could get lost somewhere else so I might actually have an excuse.

This isn’t the first time I’ve watered this grass with my tears,
And over the years, I’ve often sat sadly on this same throne made of fool’s gold.
And this fool’s cold, shivering with self-pity though I only have myself to blame.
Finally I overcome my shame and send a simple text message: H-E-L-P.
With no hesitation “Search and Rescue” lives up to their reputation.
My desperation is destroyed as they drop me off, safe and sound in my sanctuary.
I’m home and I’m at peace.
But a piece of me is struggling to be free.
And what this internal voice labels freedom is more accurately described as slavery,
That dark valley always ends in the same place.
There’s no other option, there’s no choice.
This voice whispers lies that I despise but somehow end up believing.
So I’m leaving the comfort of home and once again I’m alone on that throne of fool’s gold.
A fool does what a fool is told,
And so I sold my soul for freedom that smells suspiciously like a prison cell.
And typically my brain can tell the difference between right and wrong.
But my heart bounces back and forth like ping pong.

Sometimes I feel like everything I learn just bungee jumps from my head to my heart
Slingshoting back up into my synapses
These moral lessons are like relapses
Re-learning the same lesson again and again,
Trying to use this pen to finally cut the cord,
Cause I’m tired of being so easily seduced and letting myself be reduced to a slave
I’m tired of being tossed by the brain waves
Of the things I crave as much as Gollum wants the ring.
It’s too much love for such a little thing.

And I’m tired of checking if gullible is in the dictionary.
I act like a canary convinced the coalmine is his sanctuary.
But I want to learn to be wary,
Cause there is no safety in the darkness.
I just need to learn to be at home in the light.