Quiet Madness
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It's not hard to believe there is something up my sleeve
But traffic makes the whirlwind drop the ball
There's no voice or delay, heaven knows there's hell to pay
I'm not much more than cake and alcohol
This timing's never right, and the trip's not worth the fight
The ceiling's where there needs to be a door
It's not lucky, it's not vain, it's just sprinting down the drain
And this skeleton gets rusty more and more

Wordless apathy, worthless energy
Rolling over and under again
No deliverance, not the strictest sense
It makes none, sometimes neither does anything...

There's a shade upon the wall, but there's nothing there at all
And without the inferno, or the plan
I am waiting in the rain, with a pencil and a cane
This was never so, please try to understand
The decision's barely made, not a shovel, nor a spade
Just a hurricane we tried to call a breeze
With these lights getting dim, and the fog that's coming in
I was never me, just fading memories

What's the point of it, where do these things fit
This is where all the water remains
Drowning quietly, put it mildly
Nothing's left to deal with, all the same.

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