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Talking to Myself

de Watsky

One day you opened up your eyes inside of you
Inside a world inside a universe
You didn’t get to choose
You didn’t get to pick the rules
Or pick the past or set the pace
Or cast the cast and crew
You didn’t get to pick your starting place
And though it was a race you didn’t understand
You simply lined up on the blocks
And when the pistol popped you ran
And when you tripped and dropped you
Picked yourself up off the ground
And picked your scabs you knew
You had to pick a plan to end what you began
As you got older there were days of cold surrender
Days of shrugged whatevers folded
In with days of shocking splendor
But as time advanced the lovely days
Were covered up from view
By an advancing melancholy haze
That hovered near the dew
Yet there were moments
There were these pure arresting moments
When you stepped outside your head
Outside your pain outside control
Outside the bullshit, out of body, out of rage
Outside the need to get it, get it
You will never get it, that’s okay

Have you felt a little off today
Had a lot to say
But wound up talking to yourself?
Have you hunted for a kindly ear
But couldn’t find one near
And wound up talking to yourself?

Had a little spot where you been going through a lot
Wanna shove it to the bottom
But a trouble gonna bubble to the top
Then the bubble gonna pop
And the hustle never ever gonna stop
Cause you get up in the morning get ahead
Then get to bed and then you do it all again
Until the moment that you drop
You need a plot what you wanna witness
With this life you got
You kicked and fought trynna get up in your skin
And pick this lock
That ticking clock lets you know
That bitch you got these situations witchu
Issues someone fit to quick should sit you should down to talk
Ever wonder who’s the crazy the one
People walking to work as if nothing is off
But if a person really got it
They would be cracking a bottle on somebody’s head
And looting from shops
Are there times you’re alone
Now when nobody’s home
But you walk around muttering under your breath
Second shit saying goddammit goddammit
Goddammit just whispering soft
Do you ever get lost, deep in your thoughts
Tripping when you think
About the cost of seeing this through
When you tie your stomach into knots
That you don’t know how to undo
But do you ever have another moment after that
When you can see
There’s no one way this has to be?
Or maybe that’s just me

Had a lot to say
But wound up talking to yourself?
Have you hunted for a kindly ear
But couldn’t find one near
And wound up talking to yourself?

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