If I stand tall up on this platform
And I scream out my lungs
If I can reach anyone in any place
Will that mean my work is done?
If I can find something worth dying for
Or feel like dying from what I've become
Will I finally find contentment?
Will that mean anything at all?

There's a wear seen in my eyes
And a strain growing in my throat
And on my fear I am growing calluses
From trying to figure out what I'm here for
But if these songs can make the masses sing,
Then I'll engrave down with blood for ink,
That I am unsure of everything
In this culture of definity

I'm swallowing down whole
Everything that I can hold
And I'm taking in these rhythms
'til my ears fucking explode
Can we just stop these talks of letting go
Let's feel like there's no place else
That matters in the world

I've fought fought fought only to realize
That its not so trivial what we decide to do
So long as we're doing, we're doing
Another "what the fuck", but you expect too much
Life is not the same as the screen
So I scream:
"the only thing that still feels real to me
Are my uncertainties and the air I breathe."

Lets feel like there's
No place else that matters in the world