It should just roll off the tongue, right?
It should jsut come natural.
But not always. Almost never.
It likes to get stuck between your teeth,
Or roll over once, twice, three times more.
Just spit it out or swallow it whole.
Spit it out, it might come back.
It might spit right back at you.
It tells you that it's not right
That it's all in your head
And that these pills, these pills will make it go away.
But those pills, those pills leave a taste like it's still there.
And you don't feel like you anymore.
It festers, but you digest it.
It sinks into your blood,
It eats up different parts of you.
The medicine doesn't help,
And you can't get out of bed,
Even though you're so uncomfortable,
You feel like nothing,
You aren't worth anything
Your rational mind is eaten up by this parasite.
I've lost every little bit of you
That I thought I had left.
I can't quite reach the switch that turns it off.
I'm begining to think such a thing doesn't exist,
I want everything
I mean you want everything to be
To be okay, but it won't be.
My head melts into mush.
And I've become the pillows I sleep on.