I've got this pistol
loaded ready for the game
but I can't seem to shoot it
cause I don't know where to aim
but I guess that in the end
everything's the same
I just want to say I'm sorry
for all the faith I lack
I just want to see how you look when you
turn to face the facts

I've got a canvas
whiter than a blind eye's gaze
I can't seem to stroke it
cause I'm limited in paints
but I guess that in the end
everything's a waste

I just need some time to think
oh no don't leave me here alone
I just want someone to fill in
all the lonely space unshown
I've got a voice
always rememberin' the words
I can't seem to sing em
cause it don't ring like the birds
but I guess that in the end
nothing's truly heard

I don't need to justify
my psychotic reveries
I just want to cultivate
these sparking new sewn seeds

I've got a mind
spinning in this ever flow
I can't seem to read it
cause it tricks and ticks my ego
but I guess that in the end
nothing's all I know