and so i meander this hallway
and try not to step on the cracks in the floor
don't think i know how to relax anymore
everything's either passive or coarse
either passing the course with the masses
or passing the torch that they using to scorch all the fabric
bask in the fourths on the staff
'til the core notes collapse in the tracklists
and i watch 'em all fall to the floor
watch 'em shatter into pieces
always knew i didn't matter in the thesis
never tried to paint on my mirror
to make my own face any clearer
but things that used to be compliments
things that used to be compliments
i'll walk a million miles away
'til my insoles turn into dust
don't want my kinfolk hurting as much as i did
when i first learned to burden this rut
speak like an arcade cabinet with arcane sadness
lost in a pac-man maze where the ghosts are never blue
it's all dark and dismal 'til a better mood
i lost my mind in a health potion
they all want mine once the wealth goes in
'cause i hid my old ways in the trunk
but things that used to be compliments
things that used to be compliments
and if all goes according to plan
i'll be scoring my autobiopic
don't let 'em look up to me as a prophet
don't let 'em philosiphize on the topic
and if all goes according to plan
when i'm scoring my autobiopic
i won't let 'em tell you the comedy's cosmic
you don't need a punchline to be a bit honest