[Verse One]
She told me to stitch myself together
So I'm sippin' on this strychnine and trying to make it better
But I don't know if the weather will hold up
Maybe I should slow up
Made of sugar don't make it rain
I don't wanna blow up
I wanna stay contained
The inside on the right side
Just look here on the bright side
I'm trying to do it right I'm
Taking the proper channels
Flipping through the stations
And flopping into canals
And I’m floundering for solutions
A better execution
Made mistakes need me priestly absolution
Sifting through the screen to find some suggestions
But all I hear is laughter coming from the vestments
So I turn the search inside
While I wait for a slow rise
Dramatic lighting hitting my good side
The music swells to a montage thrill ride
But we all know I’m not that trill guy
[Hook]
I’m searching for something
I’m always searching for something
I’m always searching for something
But I don’t know what it is
[Verse Two]
Rooting around inside
Tired of the thrill ride
All the clutter flutters past the cutter of my mind’s eye
And I tear to shreds memories like Judge Dredd
Get on the chopper cause we know zed’s dead
Get out of town with an anchor in my pocket
Like a voodoo doll’s controlled by someone telling me to stop it
But I want to keep progressing
Confessing my sins while not stressing
All the problems wash away after a sewage pipe crawl
Crossed the red sea during a street brawl
Learned to sneer and how to stand tall
Tried to open my eyes but it didn’t work at all
All the differences discrepancies and Dependants
Entitled every one who is wearing their pendants
Running from the cunning foxes in goat clothing
Trying to escape from boxes of gloat owning
[Hook]
[Verse Three]
So I stitched myself together and I sifted through the sinew
And I’m looking like a rag doll due to all that voodoo
And I’m starting to slouch now
Laying on the couch now
Drown in the stream after my sewage pipe crawl
Bloated floated through the dead sea scrolls
Pretended to car pool so I stole all the tolls
And I rolled all the trolls R O T F L
Arm wrestled Satan in my personal hell
Took all the cookies from the jar on the shelf
And broke all my mirrors to truly look at myself
Seeing everything clearly for the first time
Took out my contacts and learned how to rhyme
I’ve notarized the problems but found no solutions
I’ve realized the sores and located the contusions
It’s better to travel well than to arrive
At least so said the Buddha who was a pretty cool guy