I don't feel more dead
buried deeper or more joyful
when I'm touching the sky
I'm just stuck in the middle
Appears the end of being individual
Making sparks once in a while
decay like a lightning bug
just before night
But I still feel young
I've cornered that infection
I'm aging in slow motion
Start with my wrists
so Christ like
my bloodshot eyes starting from my spite
and you don't understand I'm gonna go
without a fight
Maybe you could benefit from some of my rage
That's been there from an early age
It's done no good and I don't wanna pass it down
or pass it on, no
But I still feel young
I've cornered that infection
I'm aging in slow motion
I boarded up my home
trying to relax on my front lawn
waiting for the blood to boil
and send me to war
send me to war
Blame it on winter
Blame it on the sun
Blame it on the avalanche
that tumbled and crushed
Blame it on the weekends
Blame it on the news
they block the light from seeing
the good in front of you
Blame it on the ones who
blame it all on you
they did the best they could
but they couldn't pierce your skin
Blame it on the subtext
Blame it on disease
Blame it on the money
Blame it on the phrase
Blame it on the jester
the one who wears a frown
Blame it on the king, the queen
and burn this kingdom down