MANIC MAN

Wishes that I dream, plenty fishes in the sea

But I've been too busy stranded on the land of make believe

I've been living with disease and these silly little things

That turn me into a bitter and little fucking fiend

Little do they know, nothing is ever what it seems

The trouble that withholds my vision, ripping through the scene

No lover I could hold

Let alone get with in between my struggles and my soul

And this fickle, crippling scheme

I'd simply hope for the best every moment i recede

Soak myself in your hex and approach these woes with a clean game plan

Like it's routine while I stand on my hopes and float off a bean