Not Afraid Of The Rush

plastic century

all my life has been challenges and ball games,
swinging around just to hit and miss,
so many nights have been dipped in tears and layers of dead skin,
but ive somehow hung on tight for whatever this life will bring maybe a sudden bliss,
my parents are terribly mad at me,
they wanted me to take their advice and lose myself while staring down at me,
times like that im grateful for the wifi and independent twenty first century,

ive disappointed a lot of people,
but ultimately i live this life for my own soul syncable and it syncs just with me,
im too white washed even for my own country and ill never fit in to this imaginative visionary i call my home city,
cos the people all swear they know all of me,
till this very day ive only been comfortable with the amount of people you can count on one hand,
what makes you think you can sit with me?

im on route not just to find a home,
but ive spent all my coins living in a plastic century begging polyester dolls to play with me,
and im so exhausted of killing time in my room alone wondering if i need another coffee,
i want to hit the town, call a person or two and that same energy to be given back,

i like to think about my problems,
not cos im way too worked up on them,
but because ive grown up so much putting myself back together -
and all i wanna do is start everything all over,

dead skin was once new skin,
shedding it off is the only thing that keeps me goin',
i think im far more than complex,
but i know very soon these molecules will breathe and tell me that i got this,
dead skin i keep in my drawers,
one day ill make a story of us ill stitch it all together.