We take so much shit and we move along. We feel so much pain but just move along. We take the fuckin pills and we try to move on thinking they are going to make it better. The pills only contain the madness in our brains, numbing away the problems until it overflows like volcanic flame .
Like Clay Pigeons we fight this battle like we're made of stone.
Sometimes we feel like we're winning when we lose all control.
Most times we're just losing this struggle all alone.
Like Clay Pigeons we fight this battle like we're made of stone .
We are guilty of kicking ourselves in the teeth over and over until we cannot speak.
Our pain is self chosen or at least that's what our critics think.
We overcompensate to hide our insecurities.
We're covered in caccoons of clay . Hiding these scars aspiring of the day we fly away. We long to fly but lighting crashes and we forced to look ourselves in the eye. We have tried over and over to fly.. but our wings are broken so we say good-bye...
Like clay pigeons we fight this battle as we're made of stone.
Sometimes we feel like we're winning when we lose all control.
Like clay pigeons we fight this battle just fragile creatures pretending as we're made of stone. Most times we're just losing this struggle all alone.
We have tried to die but broken wings mend and the will to live will always outweigh the ability to die.
As Clay Pigeons someday we'll learn to fly.
©budmac38
B