Dying

Circles and numbers seem like a religion
They tear through the space
And are more than a thought
Think I'm crazy
Gonna lose it all

Show up every day taking no coffee breaks
It's cement in the road and we're going to lose
Feel like dying
Feel like going to sleep

This ain't a hobby, it's not an addiction
I know for a fact
That it gives me some friction
It's chafing
Fanning the fire

She goes to work every day
And she never complains
But she gets home at night and she thinks
That she's dying
Girl, you're not alone

Maybe it's time that I let this thing pass
I keep busting my chops
For a reason to hate
But it's useless
Now I have to believe

Precision's a fault, when will I let it go
Nameless faces are stuck
And it shakes up the ground
'Til I'm dying
We all will die young

Woody was right, but he can't give it up
I respect him for that
But I'm going inside
'Cause I'm hungry
And my friends are alone

I'm sorry that this is what I chose to give
But I need something more
Than the theories and all
I need practice
'Fore I lay down to die



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