Tekster: Lame Ducks. Pick It Up. Crying On My Own.

Dance with the poltergeists in my mind.
Sometimes I talk to my self.
It's like a different soul is trying to steal my personality.
Sometimes it just takes over when I least expect it, and puts me out.
Like I'm fucking insane..

I wait for a better day. When I'll be back again.
I'll show you my true self.
And try to forget the times when I cried on my own.

Feels like I'm locked up, but anyway I try.
In a second it can change the way I act.
With the snap of a tongue I could break. Don't fuck with me.
At any given time I can cross the line.
It's like my senses have been rendered blind.
Can you understand how it feels for me?