I can’t harbor any hate
I can’t run the other way
I’m sick and sedentary

I want remedy to faith
I want happiness to stay
My visions getting blurry, tell me

I’m not on a psychopathic pace
I just want to look you in the face
I’m not afraid of smaller socialite mistakes

I don’t know another way
On the running with my fate
I’m all caught up in worry

I’m a killer in a cage
Lock my battle in a lace
I’m working hard to curry, tell me

I’m not on a psychopathic pace
I just want to look you in the face
I lost my way so tell me, baby

I want more to carry me along
Want more sounds to my song
My anger gets me surly
My torture makes me burly
But I’m feeling dry and hurling today