All of the time, I'm thinking 'bout things too much
And then I end up out of touch
And feel a lot less real than before
I speak a lot of words, but tend to say a lot less
I'm just a fuckin' mess
And I will shut my bedroom door
And as I iron out my brain to speak to ice cream stains
I'll stare at the ceiling stars and wonder why life's so hard
Locking the door, I will talk to my floor
And I'll say
Oh, my friend, I'm not sure what to do
To get out of this goo that I absorb
How to stop myself? Hell, if I know
As above, so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb
Most of the time, I'm scooping mud and digging graves
In these saltwater caves and overgrown hospitals, the like
I'll step along the way to tell the frogs and toadstools
About how I hate this body
And they'll say, oh they'll say
We would like to help you
But it seems you're living in dreams, come back to reality
I'll cry: Wait!
And I will wake up late again
And in the morning, once more
I will speak to the floor, and I'll say
Oh, my friend, I'm not sure what to do
To get out of this goo that I absorb
How to stop myself? Hell, if I know
As above, so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb
As above, so below, I'm my own damn spirit orb
