hanging by a thread.

It's the pre-Monday blues. But it's also the burden of carrying thoughts that is looking for a voice that isn't to be found. I feel like I'm being evasive, feigning ignorance, like I'm running away from something, but I don't know what it is. I'm kinda sure I'm not lost; but if I was on that path, I hope I'd realize it early. There's also a growing sense of detachment; I pray it would lead to stronger sense of objectivity and not apathy.

my mind is dull and faded from these years of buy and sell

my eyes have seen the glory of this hollow, modern shell

sex is a grand production but I'm bored with that as well

Lord save me from myself

the electric sun keeps shining, ripen daughters of the chrome

this world is where I breathe, let it never be called home

well the vultures make the money, it's where my body fell

Lord save me from myself

the vultures make the money but I'm bored with that as well

Lord save me from myself

jon foreman :: Lord, save me from myself