Sometimes it's that thing,
That make you go crazy over insignificance thing,
That don't worry, i got it all together yet I'm starting to question thing,
That disillusioned, confused, this isn't really me, is it...thing,
That why didn't you tell me thing,
That, I'm facing the stranger in the mirror, with my voice, but don't recognize her thing,
That I'm going to hell b'cuz of all the bad thoughts i have about people who never violated me thing,
It's that,
I'm sick of hearing myself,
like everyone else, b'cuz they know I'm in that seesaw state of mind thing,
that brings you back to reality from a short psychotic trip thing,
That, if i would've put God first and foremost without slippin,
I wouldn't look like a lost fool trippin,
Behind a cloud of vanity,
My personal calamity.
Come back to reality,
Vacation from anxiety,
That thing that always makes you tick,
And tock when you are losing it!