Static

How many thoughts can fit inside a moment?

How many things can change?

It's hard to see with clarity, when things are so deranged

Voices fade, knots get frayed, silence fills the air

With three eyes to see, the truth can't be, no one's left to care

It's all just static

Makes me manic

Onset of panic

Psychosomatic

If you could do what you always wanted to do,

What do you think they'd say?

Seven hundred and fifty volts go through you,

Shocks through your bones and veins

You think you want to run away

Some sort of guilt blocking your path

Things may be different today

Some sort of changed aftermath

It's all just static

Makes me manic

Onset of panic

Psychosomatic