I'd search inside a million words
And rearrange them every way
Just to find out what I'm thinking
Is not what I want to say

So I plot a thousand different courses
Which angle ink should land
I've got to fill my reputation
I'm a writer, at demand

I've got to clear my head
And It's unearthly, thinking so
Cause I've a thousand other feelings
I'd die before letting go

Eradicate the pressure
And release, for once relax
Who can stay calm amidst a battleground
Feelings brace for the attack

I've got Picasso as the moon
A Bach amidst the stars
And I'm aiming for the furthest place
I'll go, with just a car

I've got a crystal beam refraction
And a thousand ways to blink
And when I open up my eyelids
Here’s my destiny's instinct

It's looking pretty grim, you know
Regress to childhood
Longing of effervescent feelings
When parents understood

I wasn't something perfect
Perfection had no followers
But now it seems like something I could find
Chasing after words

My ink is running lower
And the hand is standing weak
Smudging teardrops, disapproving
Of the worthless works critique

Stitch together fragments
Write another basketball
Crumpled up, it leaves a worthless
Blotch of ink, upon my wall
 
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