Abacus

Abacus (Fire)
Written by: Completely Inadequate
Instrumental: “Fire" by Stucciano

[C.I.]
It’s not my fault - its all yours
It’s not my fault (well, of course)

Addicted to fast food
My gut biome seems to crave the Itis - I can’t move

Confessions of an asshole
Tidal wave to sand castle

This is boy vs manhood
Corporations sell us joy in a canned good

Erase the memories and I’ll be fine
There's beauty in a spotless mind
My eternal sunshine

What’s said has been said
But you haven’t said much
While I’m waiting for answers
And biting my tongue

Lying through my teeth: "I don’t mind at all"
No mind at all, my wiring's off, id controls the calls

The muscle memory's so comforting
Overthinking every mishap until I'm suffering

Hypocrites - I can see through the lie
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die

From Abacus to Watson
You can play the hero and I'll be playing possum
You can pick the flower I'd rather wait for blossom
And You can see the pollen while all I see are toxins

Swan dive into the pavement
Cried wolf so many times they probably think I'm faking

Should I try and fuck it or just let it be?
What's wrong with Inadequate, he's so finicky

Feeling fake - astrology
Every time I wannabe -
Honest, it's a novelty -
Shaken I feel wobbly -
Conscious or subconsciously -
I stay within the probably’s -
Till I propose and option 3 -
Cuz 2 and 1 are not for me

Never thought I’d make it this far
Or at least that I wouldn’t be so pissed off

I'm atlas with all this weight upon
All I want is live, and they just want me to throw the apron on

It’s easy
To live life so routinely
Smoke too much I’m wheezing
Born rich? That’s just cheating

So tell me, do you even even want me at all?
Cuz I think my cold shoulders would need the time to thaw

This manic's so uninteresting
The drive that’s full inside my skull needs partitioning

There's just too many moving parts
Is he counterfeit or a counterpart?

Hold a grudge like I hold the mic
I will never let it go, yeah just to spite

Your grass looker much greener from my lawn
Put a bullet in my brain and poof we are gone

Well, to me you are though
Won’t see tomorrow
Just a piece of cargo
Can I be really just a barcode?

I can’t seem to find my soul
I must of misplaced it -
Where
Did
It
Go?

Is this really who I wanna be?
I swear I could make it better with a time machine

So it’s true that I’m never not myself
So I’ll astroproject & wish my body farewell

It’s not my fault - its all yours
It’s not my fault (well, of course)

[no I don't need your help at all]
[of course I need your help well, duh]

-[C.I.]