Time is running out, but hope springs eternal. Time is running out. I don't want to kill my soul, I don't want to kill my soul But everyday a lil bit of it dies A lil bit of my souls dies, A lil bit of my souls dies.
Push yourself, Push yourself Push yourself, Push yourself Fucking push yourself
Breakdown, Atomic meltdown go as deep as you can go deeper, go deeper you never know what
Void, Unconscious, Nothingness go as deep as you can go deeper, go deeper never know what you might find
You have found something when you read it and then you have to reread it it plays back and loops in the back of your mind it shocks your nervous system
Did I just write that? Did that just come from me? me? Me? Which verison of me?
The Drunk, The Stoner of The one that's Sober It's always good when you Find a new verison of yourself, The self, the self, which shelf. surrogate selves of fiction.
Time is running out, but Hope springs eternal, Time is running out
Let go of everything, hiding from nothing. Killling all negative unconscious programs, eating away at my consciousness
All These questions with No answers
The Superior Person will stake his life and fortune on what he deeply believes.
Triumph belongs to those who endure.
Trial and tribulation can hone exceptional character to a razor edge
that slices deftly through every challenge.
Action prevails where words will fail.
This is the realm of the Shaman.
You have exhausted every alternative, spent yourself completely, taxed body and mind beyond your former limits.
Survival and salvation lie beyond your reach now.
Only transcendence to a new existence -- a higher plane of being -- will see you through.
The Old You is just a dry husk.
You can't return to it.
Metamorphosis is the only grace offered.
You can only return to your homeland as a New You.