Sliding down a window pane, funneled through circling a drain
Rolling clouds get me down, if they pass, think I'll stick around
Waterlands, the scape is off, spinning grins, when the high wears off
So please believe
I've played my hand now it's a part of me
I can be
Limited to views of what they think of me
Now can see
Everybody looks just like a remedy
Please believe me
If I lapse in habits then hit me once coughing up the pen
I could stop replace the itch, but I'm stuck with some annoying twitch
Birdies fall, a phantom pain, this routine seems so mundane