you put your head down but youre never falling off to sleep
when i can sleep thruugh war zones, nothing ever seems to bother me
when your eyes close in comes the worst damn things you can think of
and your heartbumps stuck on the worst drum beat it can beat on

heat and floor boards creaking like a goddamn moving train
eyes and fingers point at you like youre insane
history, death, and sickness, skepticism of success

i wait for phones to ring (above all the hassles)
what shit the calmest voices seem to bring (alone in your castle)
is bad news in threes? when do i start counting (rehearsing king lear)
and wait for this all to resolve? (while i disappear)

like a tiny balled up fist leads to a needle in an arm (what do you want)
all our worst traits are just brushed off as some brooding rogue-esque charm (what do you want)
i dont believe in miracles, i dont believe at all (what did you want from me, honestly?)

you put your head down, but youre never falling off to sleep
when I can sleep through war zones, and i mean that metaphorically
maybe just one time i could come off less collected
because calm, cool, and casual feels like broke disaffected

on and on and on and on, nodding off its half past dawn
all my friends are fast asleep, or just plain gone
im tired of going to funerals where im meeting moms and dads
and feeling bad
for feeling bad
for feeling