[chorus]
I sorta figured that you probably saw,
My jittered fingers on the tableclothe.
But these are problems I can only solve,
Within this skull where I scribbled it all.


[verse 1]
I'm the poster child to most the crowd as chemically cursed.
Narcoleptic, restless-leggin', OCD's getting worse.
I live a dual point-of-view of this level of the flesh.
The first is cruising down the street, while second flies overhead.
The first is hurdling the burdens of the human condition,
while the second view collects the data, appending my wisdom.

You could call it progression, or could call it pathetic.
Or just call me Eric Collier, the genetically fretted.
Despite the fact that I'm the captain of this acclimated ship,
I'm still a swabby in this briny deep, at mercy to the current.

It's my wiring that tires me.
Two snakes that spiral my environment.
But like the Nile to the Delta, I'm still climbing up.
I'm sittin, sippin with a pinky up.
My glass is half full, but it ain't enough.
Wave at the waitress to refill my cup, then finish lunch. uh.

[chorus]

[verse 2]
Caught in a crossfire between endorphins and dozing off.
One side, a starving rottweiler,
the other side a plate of pot brownies and soda pop.
It's these polarities, that are wearing me down.
Sometimes they're scaring me,
sometimes I catch myself interrogating my own character.
My winged chariot - It carries me in orbit through distortion and clarity.

A Sumerian prepared a slab. Put a stylus right in my hand.
Said "those clouds around your coconut could vanish faster,
if you write about the bullshit with a little laughter."
Clear the cobwebs out the attic.
Cuz there are problems no one else can solve.
Some solo battles I fight in my shell.
Some days it's feeling like I'm living a series of Seinfeld.

Fidgeting under the comforter, thinking a catheter couldn't be
too fucking terrible, cuz I got a bladder full, ready to fill a bowl.
Just throw on some undergarms, and a little power jog.
Awaken the dragon, and finally drain it.
Look to the ceiling, cherish the feeling. To the porcelain ringing...
(agh)

[chorus]