Feed Your Head

The bombs' about to go off. I can feel it building up
The pressure, growing at every moment that passes in time
I will say this, but I doubt you understand what I mean.

These scars, feel like they're ripping open
Slow and shallow at first, pulling apart
Skin once held by stitches come undone once again
And I could say this, but you wouldn't understand what I truly mean.

I could tell you casually that when everyone turns right I turn left
Or that I'm a goat in a flock of sheep
You'd think one thing, but I really meant another
More than likely only a few would get my point.

Specters stalk my waking world
Voices speak while I try to sleep
Asking the others if I'm asleep yet
Laughing at me, causing me to feel small inside
You think I'm saying something different, when really this is what I've heard.

Perhaps life would be easy if they'd find me crazy
Giving me reason to be the way I am
Or making it more difficult, who knows
The bombs' about to blow, I think I'll soak in the radiation
Start this process over, begin again.