explain who I am How come it's possible? I wish there was a way I feel so invincible I'm the sculpture made out of clay I need someone to break the
players in this dark drama of the macabre Mouths agape with terror but breathless to scream No death rattle heard, nor parting sors I am preserver of
the damaged part of me Restored what little dignity was left inside Was left inside this broken thing I know I'm not worthy of this Never ending perfect love I
word I say, I, every verb you heard I play snaps a vertabrae, you try to cover, a hover me, a roast, a fake Aflag, then I run a post, toast, I'm the
they entered and intersected the floor And I tried to choke my stare at the perfection that others would kill for But all of the parts are the same on
I lost my sense, I lost my soul Experiencing craziness has made my heart turn cold For centuries and more, I've searched my head for perfect words I'll
sign And keeps an eye to the light I sense panic overboard Obscure, viscid sprawling fog I hear a sonar rumour That says I'm far from the shore How I
my man Com Sense Rallyin' troops like Joseph Stalin Where you at yo? I'm 'bout to make the name Com Sense, a name you fear Y'all niggaz is scared, I
This is me, I've got a nasty sense of humor And a case of high anxiety If you please, I would rather be alone Let the water running judge me So I got
things, I am I'm a million contradictions Sometimes I make no sense Sometimes I'm perfect Sometimes I'm a mess Sometimes I'm not sure who I am? I am special I am beautiful I
apart from all the hurt above I got a perfect way to make a new proposition I got a perfect way to make a justification I got a perfect way to make
puzzle Every time I chase a squirrel it rips apart my world Every time I chase a squirrel it rips apart my world Every time I chase a squirrel it rips apart my world And every time I
I know I can handle it Baby, you're so bad I'm so bad, it hurts my heart Good job, god, she's a work of art I observe your mini skirt swirvin' part
get me mad, and I?m comfortable heated I come from a family of drunks, I?m the one that succeeded So nowadays I talk to God when nothing is needed I?m sorry I
all makes perfect sense Expressed in dollars and cents Pounds shillings and pence Can't you see It all makes perfect sense Little black soul departs in perfect
And the BMX bike of my life is about to explode I'm about to explode I'm a mess, I'm a wreck I am perfect and I have learned to accept All my problems
the eyes of society telling me that I'm not quite what I'm supposed to be I'm not married with two children or single with a career I'm not drowning