N. m. martin - Spaced out

I can drift off into space
And not recollect a time nor place
Alone inside of my mind
When I am stressed out and on the grind

Oh when will things get better
It seems like they never will
I cannot keep holding on
My mind will always be ill

My patience is spread too thin
The present looks all too grim
I need to climb my way out
Of this chasm of chaos full of doubt


Oh when will things get better
It seems like they never will
I cannot keep holding on
My mind will always be ill

The man in the moon is my only friend
In this day to day struggle that never ends
I am fed up with living this life
Full of endless chaos endless strife

Oh when will things get better
It seems like they never will
I cannot keep holding on
My mind will always be ill
Will always be ill
Will always be ill

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