In Creative Desperation, Nothing Is Ever Straightforward When It Should Be

It's so hard to fight this condition
A condition defined by the lack thereof
Man, the fuse blew out
There's no traveling here
The city feels so down
And my brain is the dark streets
Nothing is ever straightforward
When I'm trying to write it down
Maybe close but no cigar
There's no traveling here
I can't shut my eyes
And my nerves are the lightning

Trying to fit a round hole into a square peg

Stuck in the silence
Why can't it be simple
Like we used to do
Stolen and disfigured
Like we used to do, buddy

I can never appeal to the chorus
It's all the Tappan Zee when the bolts give way
Not one for cover-ups
There's no traveling here
And London Bridge burns down
How the page looks so empty
I need a friend to test my thoughts on
No, there's no traveling here
In self-pitied rage
And the words are kinetic

Kaleidoscopic
In confusion
Comes description
Comes creation
But it ain't good anyway

Stuck in the silence
Why can't it simple
Like we used to do
Stolen and disfigured
Like we used to do, buddy
Stuck in the silence
Why can't it simple
Like we used to do
Stolen and disfigured
Like we used to do, buddy

Like we used to do
(Like we used to)
I don't know what to say anymore