Insomnia
What is it all for?
I've asked myself that question so many times now
It's become more worn than my Reebok classics
I'm a slave to frivolous habits
Of introspection without any destination, ruminating thoughts in constant rotation
Is this what it means to be conscious? To constantly question our conscious?
Despondently fall on my back horizontally
Under my bed, there are monsters, they visit me when I try to sleep
They're those thoughts that play on repeat
They say, "Ren, you're always gonna suffer, Ren, you're always gonna suffer"
And I boomerang between optimism and pessimism so much that my sanctuary could be a prison
What blinds me could give me vision
And what finds me is this indecision of what to do with these questions
"Is there purpose?" "Is there God?"
And if there is God, then God, why do I feel like this, God?
Are we not sculpted in your image? And if so, do you feel that pain?
Un-relinquishing pain like my brain got put under
A Bunsen burner and torched until the membranes became flame
I hate not sleeping
I like the weekend because other people don't sleep either
Mindless TV shows irritate me, but they're my messiah
Because I can become brain-dead, wasted, lost in trails of dry saliva
(But I'm a survivor, a child of destiny)
But this night has been testing me
Question the mess that's progressing, undressing me
Stripping me naked and stuffing the stress in me
I used to use drinking as a way to stop thinking
And my problems with drinking made me feel like I was sinking
So I dried up my drink and then I couldn't sleep a wink
And now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking about nothing
Fucking nothing! And everything, and nothing
I hate not sleeping
So I lie here trying to count sheep and their bleating's repeating
My bleeding heart, it is beating and beating me in my sleep is the plea
And pleading for healing is fleeting, longing for sleepless? Audibly speaking?
I weep in the sheets, it's doubling doubley, troubling subtling, it's bleak, it's so bleak, it's so bleak
And I lost my mind on a line
I hate not sleeping
I hate not sleeping
I've asked myself that question so many times now
It's become more worn than my Reebok classics
I'm a slave to frivolous habits
Of introspection without any destination, ruminating thoughts in constant rotation
Is this what it means to be conscious? To constantly question our conscious?
Despondently fall on my back horizontally
Under my bed, there are monsters, they visit me when I try to sleep
They're those thoughts that play on repeat
They say, "Ren, you're always gonna suffer, Ren, you're always gonna suffer"
And I boomerang between optimism and pessimism so much that my sanctuary could be a prison
What blinds me could give me vision
And what finds me is this indecision of what to do with these questions
"Is there purpose?" "Is there God?"
And if there is God, then God, why do I feel like this, God?
Are we not sculpted in your image? And if so, do you feel that pain?
Un-relinquishing pain like my brain got put under
A Bunsen burner and torched until the membranes became flame
I hate not sleeping
I like the weekend because other people don't sleep either
Mindless TV shows irritate me, but they're my messiah
Because I can become brain-dead, wasted, lost in trails of dry saliva
(But I'm a survivor, a child of destiny)
But this night has been testing me
Question the mess that's progressing, undressing me
Stripping me naked and stuffing the stress in me
I used to use drinking as a way to stop thinking
And my problems with drinking made me feel like I was sinking
So I dried up my drink and then I couldn't sleep a wink
And now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking, now I'm thinking about nothing
Fucking nothing! And everything, and nothing
I hate not sleeping
So I lie here trying to count sheep and their bleating's repeating
My bleeding heart, it is beating and beating me in my sleep is the plea
And pleading for healing is fleeting, longing for sleepless? Audibly speaking?
I weep in the sheets, it's doubling doubley, troubling subtling, it's bleak, it's so bleak, it's so bleak
And I lost my mind on a line
I hate not sleeping
I hate not sleeping
Credits
Writer(s): Ren Gill
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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