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March of Futility

Thought I'd be bold but I can't get a foothold
In this game of life and death
Constant afflictions clash with my addictions
And I don't have time to take a breath

Day x of y, don't question why
I wanna restart instead of doing my part
To fix what I've broke, and I'm choking on smoke
From burning rubber on my face

All through this year I've been facing a fear
That if I tried to stop, I know I could
So many days later, again I become a traitor
Carrying my chains of wood

Another scary cycle, another bland recital
Anyone would say my methods are strange
I guess I must be crazy or maybe I'm just lazy
And I've never tried to make a change

Day x of y, I'm pretty sure I
Won't be content until the day that I die
Because I keep screwing up, keep on filling my cup
With the ashes pouring off my face

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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