"Hey man, your number 1, you know that?"
No I didn't, forgive me if I don't believe you, my mind has gone into overdrive, it's cynical.
I ain't got no money or strength, mental capacity to deal with whatever, your clinical
I'm not about to give you everything I've got, when all you say is ever on a whim
It's like the gear cogs in your brain are working and clocking never ending overtime
Just to find out how much further you can knock me down until the light in me is dim
You've tried time and time again for years to make me lose it and commit a sin
But you've not succeeded by some sheer will inner determination, I always win
In your temper tirade, I still somehow rise tall, head held high with no clue
I'm tired, I'm beat, I feel like a zombie, this my way forever your grace
Whether or not I'm the turtle, or the hare, of whether I'm a rat race
I'm somehow still here standing with my feet on the ground, my place
My place in life set solid to an unknown fate, not knowing which gate
To open to find my dreams come true, my forever happy ending
So forgive me if I don't believe I'm your number 1, I'm cynical
Of all the bullshit that's been thrown my way...
Even the hypothetical nonsensical quintessential definition,
Of life that leaves me obliviously clinical.
No I didn't, forgive me if I don't believe you, my mind has gone into overdrive, it's cynical.
I ain't got no money or strength, mental capacity to deal with whatever, your clinical
I'm not about to give you everything I've got, when all you say is ever on a whim
It's like the gear cogs in your brain are working and clocking never ending overtime
Just to find out how much further you can knock me down until the light in me is dim
You've tried time and time again for years to make me lose it and commit a sin
But you've not succeeded by some sheer will inner determination, I always win
In your temper tirade, I still somehow rise tall, head held high with no clue
I'm tired, I'm beat, I feel like a zombie, this my way forever your grace
Whether or not I'm the turtle, or the hare, of whether I'm a rat race
I'm somehow still here standing with my feet on the ground, my place
My place in life set solid to an unknown fate, not knowing which gate
To open to find my dreams come true, my forever happy ending
So forgive me if I don't believe I'm your number 1, I'm cynical
Of all the bullshit that's been thrown my way...
Even the hypothetical nonsensical quintessential definition,
Of life that leaves me obliviously clinical.