cycle

broken wheel by Alistair Chong

there was a time when i thought words could weave their magic
but now it's the same to me, i've lost the mystery
there was once when i thought i could write a spell
and send my insecurity to hell, but i was deceived

i can't find the words to say anything
they're the same cliché
i can't pull my head out of this grey painting
it's the same every day

so i find my inspiration in recorded signings and deals
these words i thought i pulled from my head
my writing in hypocrisy, it turns out i steal
in a prison of mediocrity, gets me so damn depressed

i can't find the words to say anything
they're the same cliché
i can't pull my head out of this grey painting
it's the same every day

someone tell me how to do it
if you'd tell a kid
tell me how you see your dream
just like you'd tell a kid
but please don't see the irony
in telling me, please

i can't find the words to say anything
they're the same cliché
i can't pull my head out of this grey painting
it's the same every day