E-Dubble - NyQuil lyrics

Even the bad dreams are better than
Whats on the other side
Say, "Hello" to your pillow
"Goodbye" to another night
And your mistress is what mystery is
Living like a whistles kid
No time for wish lists because
There are no more Christmas's
Subconsciously your bombing shit
Real life looks ominous
Avoid it like the plague
But keep your common sense
Your guard is up so much that
You can't take a compliment
Self-deprecation's overtaken
At least acknowledge it
Erect a monument to what it is you stand for
Isolationist vices, and your prepared for 'em
Stock your cabinets with bottles
And all your sundries
But the only storm coming' is yours
And shit is hungry
Stop the pangs with some back pats
'cuz it ain't that bad
Crafted a tool to help you
With that back scratch
Solitaire's cool when your
Throwin' Jacks back
No money on the game it ain't
The same playing blackjack fuck

'Cuz when them thoughts start to creep in
I put my head down and let them just seep in
'Cuz they know where I wanna be
So when it's time to talk I
Let my dreams do the speakin'
And they don't talk loud, No
They concise and advice is powerful
So, even when I'm not asleep
When it comes my time to talk I
Let my dreams do the speakin'

Ya you old dog there you go again, rolling
Alone, holdin' the phone for no one
Throwin' the stones
At the glass house, never meant to break
You gotta be invited inside if
It's gonna change shapes
All you do is destroy and rebuild
The product is nothin'
The process is where you seek thrills
And they ain't cheap- that
Pain gets unsheathed
When you lift up that curtain
And murder your own peace
Whats the reason for it?
And what you reachin' for?
Why don't you get a little help and
Then you each in enjoy it?
Cut-throat is one path and you
Don't have to take it
You do it transparently
You don't have to fake it
So fuck those conventions
Fuck bad intentions
Your mind has been made: you're
Back on your mission get back to inventin'
The new shit is true shit
These days are your wisdom
Your done being clueless, come on