All up the wall and on the stairs.
I can’t see straight, all in my head.
There’s something growing under my bed.
I’ll make a list, a little plan.
This time I won’t spend my entire life span,
On planning the next six years of my life.
Ill never be happy; make Annie my wife.
It’s harder to find anything in the dark.
I’ll turn on the lights, roll a fag and then spark.
I’m struggling greatly to manage to breathe.
I’ll never be happy; I will never sleep.
Testing my throwing arm; power and range.
I’m in the mirror dimension, like Doctor Strange.
My heart is beating, oh so very hard.
I’ll never leave home again; don’t step out the yard.
Why do I worry? It’s always the same.
Forever catching myself making life a game.