Sketchy Chris - Medicated

I'm just dreading every day, 
waking up in this headspace.
Everything I do is wrong.
Waking up in tears, 
unable to feel, or hear.
Not knowing what to think, what to say. 
Everyone saying I'm better than that,
but how the fuck is that the case.
Show me how you're in my space, 
understanding my pleading grace.
I just want out of this head,  
with no need to get out this bed and swallow these meds;
and be on the up and up, and well fed.

Self medication at the hip, sitting here with a bottle to sip.
Living with my self doubt, believing I can sit back and flip.
Make a living off pushing bricks to individual urban hicks.
With no intentions of getting rich, something I need to kick.
With a mindset to flow, but no interest to go.
I sit back with some blow... yeah.

Sitting here - patiently waiting 
for the day I can call myself me.
Pushing through life silently hating 
common hurdles that shape beliefs.
Like you're stuck in a rut called life, 
and vices have thrusted the knife.
Blood runs, but sure as shit; nothings in sight.
Feel like nothing but a fiend, 
Nightmares to the head like a beam.
Morale got my wellbeing creamed.
What can I say, what I do is questionable.
But my thoughts aren't quite measureable.
With the demons in my veins, 
It's definitely something insaparable.
Feeding the heathens all night,
yet sitting back saying its alright.
Its definitely not shaping me 
in this game called life.
... yeah.

Self medication at the hip, sitting here with a bottle to sip.
Living with my self doubt, believing I can sit back and flip.
Make a living off pushing bricks to individual urban hicks.
With no intentions of getting rich, something I need to kick.
With a mindset to flow, but no interest to go.
I sit back with some blow and, 
shove it up my (fucking) nose.
.... yeah.