Dysania

you ever have a day, or three for me I guess,

where you can't get the fuck outta bed

where your in a state of fucking

Dysania

 

Crammed cowering in the corner, praying for protection

With an objection to the selection, of where Ive been my placing attention

miserable lying in this bed, tiring to speak a sentence

perspective is a different dimension take that in consideration

 

take this medication your placing in large rations on this patient

aching to feel something, breaking from this faking not feeling vacant

discriminated, hated at the least, free from this leash, impeach the beast

This beast of believes needs to be free among people, no more deceive

 

Depressions some real shit, you know it just fucks with your beliefs

Constant grief without relief, shit broken is where that leads

So on this eve, haven't escaped lure of lying of in this bed

ones that lead never stress about the past, na but looked ahead

 

haven't left the upper story of my house in prolly forty hours,

Lack of power, doubt it, it's lack of motivation I've encountered

To keep me looking downward, doubt is the founder of fails

overthinking most details tips the scales away from clear prevail

 

Hear me out, I'm on top of it, equipped to aquit detrimental shit

Next day I sit in isolation, compilation of feeling out of place and unfit

Surrounding by weeds that constrict, but I stick though all the starvation

No meditation can fix lingering damage from all these medications

 

stead of feeing depressed, Sit devoid feel absolutely nothing

Not trusting these emotions I'm confronting, my whole life I felt disgusting

discussing me as an inspiration is corrupting the young things

I'm nothing but a delinquent conducting them to do dumb things

 

I lie here gazing at the ceiling reflecting on past behavior

Try to escape despair, maybe to kids one day I can be a savior

5 years ago laying here, this music keep me going with a purpose

A surplus of confidence I'd purchase, doubts occasionally resurface

 

Now I'm sitting here thinking I deserve this, a pity party

Worse than when I puked at Martis, or the time I puked in her car seat

Always been precieved as a follower, like that kid couldn't lead

Now they can't believe I'm doing my own thing, just not planning to leave

 

I look defeated, just recharging from mentally depleted

secret is I'm fatigued from this critique made me ready to concede

battle shriek before I impede to move foward and stampede

Always perceived as another follower, but fucker now who leads

 

As I speak I'm making my way down the stairs, away from despair

declared that instead of sitting there, working my hardest right here

Pack a bowl and were clear to appear I didn't almost leave my career

I mean it for real don't be a fucking pussy, don't let depression interfere