I have a story to share in time
But first you must be understanding of mine
This story in which I hold
Has yet to behold the truth to me
For four, maybe three, more years ill be stuck in this wild and crazy trap
I don't know how to f**in act
My life is an act, an act I make a packt not to live
In my mind I feel the static
Not the fuzziness of life, the Grey matic
I mean matter but what does it mean rather
Something I could never see without the power inside
So many lies and so few a f**ing prize
Colorless tatters, adjective to your lies
This struggle I hold so bold
Unknown, its scary to say the least
That the most painful struggle I hold is worth the least
But that's cause the most worthy struggle, isn't a struggle in the least
It's the decisions that are made, that will change you into a beast
Like bath salts in a white man lookin for a feast