Corsicana caustic

I chide myself sometimes for bringing my day to a standstill
And write myself a letter of apology
But it never seems to do
The daily drills, best of luck
Follow if you will, go to bed
See it again in a different light
It takes a step closer to being that much better
But just always seems to fail
To fall short of the conjecture
I find myself asking it all to improve
But in the end, it's me who needs to tell myself the truth
I say that I'm willing to fight
But maybe I've just taken the next flight out
The walls around me are all new
The air feels heavy from a fresh coat of paint
The weight comparable to that of my chest
I'll do my best
I take a step farther from being that much better
And just always seem to fail
To fall short of the conjecture
I find myself asking it all to improve
But in the end, it's me who needs to tell myself the truth
It takes a step closer to being that much better
But just always seems to fail, to fall short
To fall short