Mental Health 2

Call me Moonwatcher
I wanna stay drunk, why be sober?
I told you im a goon, a loon, storm rider
Knocking down the doors
High with the devil on my shoulder
Walking around off a fucking bean in Apocrypha
Ignoring my dreams of being on top of the
Crowds or clouds?
Will i be Popular or commit suicide, ugh?
Lets stop choosing sides
Because one day our sun wont pass our tide
Every hour is a new ride
But right now im chasing wild horses, dont care if i died
My smile warps, im having vile thoughts
My style is all out of sorts
Just a wild corpse caught in a cursed course
Lost
-And i wanna be fucking found
I dont wanna be fucking found

Mind of a bum, i succumb to the haze
Im sorry mum, this isnt a phase
You see it on my face everyday, a pale glaze
It takes a lot to admit im in a frail state
I panic whenever i get mail since my jail stay
This DUI put my whole life on delay
The only bad thing about getting high is the crime
My fucked up mind thinks as i do the time
Hungover in a cell, im done thinking being sober is hell
But in 2 months im high again
From a blunt and hallucinogens
I cant fucking help who i am
Im too weak to change, so i speed to the end
Tired of playing pretend inside my own head
I Know what i should be doing instead
But im broken, why care about life, if ur already dead

Hook
I, just wanna feel alive
I, just wanna feel alright
I, just fucking wanna feel alive
I, im not alright

Im dying to live the solution
And find the fire to start the revolution
My evolution, a subtraction of guilt
Its hard to prove my actions with all the walls i built
Off my fucking axis, like Earth, always a tilt
These drugs are magic, worth all the sweet dreams spilled
The beams of light that start to wilt
Streams of thought, the Vanderbuilts are tearing at my core
The more i think about it, i think i have ptsd
From seeing my dad laying dead on the floor
It wasnt an overdose, like me, yo, nah lemme take that again
It wasnt an overdose, tho, an anuerysm
My anger hidden, stubborn
Alone, under the covers
No home, sleeping in the gutter
I developed a stutter cause i never know what to say
Only ‘lets smoke this jay’
‘Lets spend all my money’
And pretend that we’re okay
This damage is tragic, but my thinking wasnt always that way
Art is better when you experience great pain
But whats the point if every day is still a struggle to breath
Should i write songs with references and let you figure out what they mean?
Or make more direct messages about my mental health disease
Theres wealth in the uncomfortable struggle in admitting you’re a fein
From space ships, to bong rips, to being face to face with complex emotions
So much stored in feelings that you’re harboring
And you’re only harming yourself and your family
Theres nothing fucking left of me
Unproductively and a dying fantasy
Maybe therapy would work for me
I hope this could be yours
Just remember you’re a beauty and better than your anxiety
I wish i could believe my own words
A depressed narcissist always at war with the world
This is my message, you are a fucking gem
I wasted enough, maybe in another life we’ll meet again

Hook