This stress follows me.
Distress follows me.
Trying to calm down. Trying to fight my wallowing.
Galloping through tomorrow like it's yesterday, stressed I say, trying to feel blessed yet still I step to shame. Can't reclaim my own soul. Rock and roll's a livestream that I won't go to with a GoPro. A style I can't call my own. Dues they pile, am I wrong? To keep on. To do things like it's leap year and I'm legion. It's foolish of me maybe. I seek to flee to freedom.
Summer time is coming with a different set of dues. And this regret to lose. I hope it works as planned.
Summer time is coming and I'll shimmer till I'm steeped. In all things that won't stoop. Till I am huge and grand.
Summer time is coming yet it's a feeble hope I think. Cause lately all my summers have been gone within a blink. If I want to change my life I need to start with the sink - not the running water. It's become a slaughter. How much can I drink?
Summer time is coming with another hope though. With a sun and PE. So when I'm done I'll be free. I can run so I'll flee. I'll be strong so I'll lift. All the burdens that now weigh me down and try to find bliss. Like the highest skylift.
I will. My will. I hope? Aye