The Wrong Track
Sitting here, I think of nothing.
When I gaze in the mirror, it’s nothing more than a blank expression.
Do you have those moments when you don’t know who you are?
Do you have times of complete obscurity?
I can feel my skin, but it doesn’t feel right,
It feels like a shell of someone else.
Perhaps I’m mad, but I am still me,
That’s what I hope in this world of delusion.
I’m forced to live a life of taxing,
I’m forced to suppress my expressive side.
I’m taken for granted by the world that spins,
But I’m chasing a train heading in the wrong direction.