All of this talk going around,
About getting high and coming down,
What he said, she said ain't no thing,
The big picture shows only the misery it can bring,

Whispering behind your back and screaming in your face,
The multitude of lies more lies will erase,
Look toward the future through your present black hole,
Are you confident that you'll still have possession of your soul?

Running from the voices in the direction of your vices,
Each and every lapse of time yet another crisis,
Verbal assault easily rendered in a shared mind riot,
How many hours race by without an utter of quiet?

They say, she says, you say,
Just tongues wagging in the way.
In the haste of the high she trips over these lips,
In the waste of the high the meaning of these words slip,

When the inner darkness blankets what trouble that are your dress,
In this present state of temporary you overlook what is truly a