pumpkineater

"Games"

I know I'm being followed by invisible men
Life is good, but why am I so miserable then
I'm second guessing my every decision
But my hand is guided with heavy precision
I can't even trust my own eyes
But actually everything I do is done with pin point accuracy
At least once a week I come this close to dying
But nothing ever happens
Am I supposed try and kill the heart of a man?
Or is every move I make just a part of the plan?
What should I expect the last mathematical invasion?
I refuse to believe my life is a mathematical equation
Can I do to pull the plug?
Or burn the bridges?
What if I start doing drugs or turn religious?
Every involuntary swallow brings a pattern and a chance to wear
a halo like the rings of Saturn
But do my family and friends know that I dome the back of my mind
To the back of my throat?
In front of my face and under my nose
No wonder why nobody notices any of this
I am expert, indivisible, miserable, individual over my head still
Burning the tread mill
One step faster than the man with the master plan, baby

Buck, Molemen