Fuzzy, Weak, Fat, Old Friend

I would feel good If I was able to make you happy
Here and for good I am your cross, your fuzzy, weak, fat old friend

Barely walking on my knees
Carrying the weight of the Atlas in me
And a bag full dreams

And I can keep falling from the ground
Maybe I like how it sounds
Crashing into your promises

And I can keep on going
Up and down
Delusions i am the one holding the crown
Trusting in your promises

I wish I could be as good as you at not going crazy for nothing
I wish I could be as good as you at listening without judging
Pulling me out from the mud, tuning my brain to
The right frequencies, to listen back to my dreams

And I can keep falling
From the ground
Maybe I like how it sounds
Crashing into your promises

And I can keep on going
Up and down
Delusions i am the one holding the crown
Trusting in your promises

I am just a broken lad with a bag full of dreams with nothing inside.
Why are you letting me carry a bag full of dreams
With nothing inside? There's nothing inside.