My brain is fried from all those lies.
I'm overwhelmed with ache and grief,
my shoes no longer fit my feet.
I'm aging fast and growing small,
my dreams get far and start to fall.
I lose my views from crowds around,
people saying I'm hell-bound.
But all I do is sit and stare,
listen in on all their prayers.
I piece together my odd hands,
play and gamble until I'm a man.
I laugh a lot to ease my pain
and cry a lot when love's to blame.
My life's my own and I'm content.
God only knows my true intent.