Wintersun.

Deceptive as the winter sun.

Weighted words; 19 tons.

To which head will I hold this gun?

If I said this; would you run?

Light makes right; even if it’s second sight.

Skin suit is tight; beneath hides the plight.

Of course I told a lie.

Not all men refuse to cry.

Swallow hard pills to make the wailing stop.

Staring at the ceiling and the clock.

Four horsemen rear and trample my thoughts.

Maybe it’s all fine and I just need to jerk my cock.

Nah, fuck it; just turn up the radio.

Drown out reality with low fidelity in stereo.

Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one.

The world turning just for me.

Deceptive as the winter sun.

Weighted words; 19 tons.

To which head will I hold this gun?

If I said this; would you run?

Would you run?

Inside my dreams, shattered windows and lightbulbs swinging.

Bloodstains on the walls, leaves an impression and a real rustic feel‌ing.

Never had a night without waking up at 3:00, that is; unless I’m drinking.

Emotions up then down like concrete shoes; now I’m sinking.

Muddy water fills my lungs; now my body’s stinking.

Lost now where the sun doesn’t shine, I learn to regret and ask myself; just what were you thinking?

How could my imagination make this shit up unless I thought it was fun?

Maybe I’ll never know..

Deceptive as the winter sun.

Weighted words; 19 tons.

To which head will I hold this gun?

If I said this; would you run?

Would you run?

Alien and sterile, white room and white jacket.

Check the diagnosis; it’s in the discharge packet.

Back on the streets; listening to the racket.

If there ever was a lifestyle I fit in to; you know I couldn’t hack it.

Just one more year until I’m sitting atop the hill, they say it’s all downstream from there, got to let my desires go; and if they are as lofty as they say then you know I will.

Whittle down the bamboo and the sugar cane.

If I sniff it up my nose will it drive me even more insane?

I’ll just assume it’s better to stay in my lane.

Got scars all over my body after all; I’m used to the pain.

Looking back upon all that I’ve done.

Could’ve gone better but it’s..

Deceptive as the winter sun.

Weighted words; 19 tons.

To which head will I hold this gun?

If I said this; would you run?

Would you run?

Never before has my neuroticism been outdone..

If I said this; would you run?

Would you run?

Of course I told a lie.

Not all men refuse to cry. –Michael Kabu Ament