Demon
This passion in my chest
Following your dreams you'll only fall.

I've questioned all my motivation being here right now,
Chasing six colors won't get you gold.
Chasing six colors won't get you gold.


Compliments don't pay the bills in my mouth,
But it's so enjoyable to thrash about,

Searching for Lincoln through vibrating strings,
And hallowing my art, by how the trail has broken me.


Angel Angel Angel, balancing upon my neck
The weight of all the love that I've received.
With all this kindness crushing me because it's returned,

A debt so heavy it's suffocating me.
A debt so heavy it's suffocating me.


Blinded by the hands I'm trying to lead,
And giving the advice that I mostly need,
If all art reflects our love then we're as ugly as we feel,

But immature poets imitate, mature poets steal.

If you wanted your own song, you wouldn't ask you'd sing along.