So ive been writing down everything I see
scribble in the hope of something to achieve
Its not that I see so much, or that im so smart that
I pick up the things that you cant read
And if you say that im inspired
Then you would be a liar cause
Im driven by my apathy with the things laid out in front of me
And its hopeless when I get this way
And inspiration has no other way for me
The fact that I can't pick the words when I, sit down to try,
Defines my life
So I'll just keep trying to relieve, you of your sympathies, and im so sorry
So you think im hot and bothered
And your right I cant recover
But its not what you think
I cant help but write down all my thoughts, its been that way since i heard that
Song so long ago and
If you say that im inspired then
You would be a liar cause
Its just jumbled memories that I regurgitate with such ease
And its hopeless when I get this way
And my pen wont scratch the paper the way I like
It's the therapy that we all need except my diary is for all to read
and if its not for you that's fine by me, just let me be, no apologies
and if you listen you'll hear the sounds of growing up
its restless and confusing but with a little luck
I will take the songs that I hear and pin them on the spinning wheel
Of the tape that rolls in my mind, fragile, in a broken line
