Ghosta Rhack, Prairie Dogg - Newfoundland lyrics

A lot of people keep asking
Me if I'm going to
Apply myself when I go back
To school next September
It's such a stupid question i mean
How do you know what you're going
To do until you do it?
The answer is, you don't
I swear it's a stupid question

Hello, Jonathan, hey are you listening?

Sorry, the repetition’s just
Not too interesting
What were you saying? Am I
Ready to go back swinging?
I know I'm supposed to but
I guess that’s unconvincing
See, I took a year off
To do some self reflection
But what were you expecting?
Some kind of resurrection?
Or for me to achieve perfection at
The end of the corridor?
Naw, nothing ever changes
Except, everything does, sorta
Or maybe the pieces just
Rearrange their order
And spread into our heads
Like a contagious disorder
And they say you're almost there
If you just keep on treading water
But we're all being led along
Like lambs to the slaughter
So be brutally honest, Doc
And shoot from the hip
Am I off my rocker? Am I just losing my grip?
Or am I ill-equipped to function?
My ticket’s not round trip
But here we are right where we
Started like a Möbius strip

Memory plays tricks on you with age
After all these years
I don't even know what's real anymore

Alright, nice delivery
But you're being melodramatic
Don't be so jittery
You're acting like an addict
It's only natural that you feel so afraid
But you're being irrational in
Your avoidance of change
You want things to be
Tractable and easily explained
But it's impractical to give up
Just cause things aren't arranged
You have these expectations
So deeply ingrained
Things either work out perfect or
You think you're insane
At the slightest delay
You break down and run away
You get off the train and out of the game
And I know that you can see
You're only holding yourself back
You could really succeed if you could only
Just melt that attitude of yours and buck up

Right, I’ve heard all of the
Rules before, and ok, i guess I will
Take another stab at school
So call me Alex Hrbial
But the fact remains that you’re
All still in denial
And I’m trying to refrain from judgment
But I’m calling a mistrial
Cause you’re involuntarily burying a
Slew of suicidal tendencies
Idly biding your time until you
Can't stand to be alive, and the
Only consolation, you can’t wait for
It’s the sweet embrace of death you need
But you can't say it
Like inpatients of tonsillectomies
Wait a second
This situation needs a bit of levity
Or redirection do I even
Understand what I believe?
Memory dredging, identity questioning
I try to hide behind some
Kind of guise of self-consistency
I’m not the same as I was
At other times in history
I don’t mean to sound pretentious
I’m not talking solipsistically
I just mean that the future doesn’t seem
So black and white to me

Nurse, we’ve got ourselves a basket
Case to put it mildly