No soulful self-direction
Always an earful of the worst advice
Deflect the blame for crude decision-making
And mindlessly I fall
For the oldest trick in the book
The sharpest rocks beneath the cliff
I've not the means to call it quits
All lies about the joy of trust
Supposed to lift, instead it shoves me off
A dearth of medication
I told you so, Just hear me out
Prime fodder for a million conversations
But too weak to stand and make the call
You were always the weakest one in the pack
The indecision forms a rift
A cycle to which I commit
All lies about the joy of trust
Supposed to lift, instead it shoves me off
It shoves me off
Tired of this con
Too hot to calm
Be your own bomb