I've written fifty songs and with each one finished
I wonder if these feelings will ever diminish
I do it to myself just to write a song
Get in my head to make sense of it all
And write it down with my pen
But at the end of the page
Everything starts breaking
I don't know what to write anymore
I'm getting sick of these doors
That hold my dreams and everything
That's more than what I have and what I'd give, to finish these damn songs
About my wrongs
These words I write they're therapy
But they don't help
They only fuel my need to
Scream, shout, and be angry
About who I am and what I'll never be
Tell me how I'm supposed to live
When all I do is overthink and stiffen
Pen to paper never made me better
I don't know what to write anymore
I'm getting sick of these doors
That hold my dreams and everything
That's more than what I have and what I'd give, to finish these damn songs
About my wrongs
These words I write they're therapy
But they don't help
They only fuel my need to
Scream, shout, and be angry
About who I am and what I'll never be
Down and out I've lost control
I didn't ask for a writers soul
