Best of This

The songs I write for show and tell are like an open letter
And as I get to know myself you get to know me better
And the topics that feature
More often they each have a
Healing power over me, I'm no preacher
But if I write down what's inside now it'll teach you
The reasons I'm down so when I frown I don't need you
I'm just focused on hosting a host of emotions nobody knows of
Surely someone feels this hopeless and broken, right?

Speak up it's an open mic, can you relate to me?
This question's like gym sessions
We'd just to wait to see the gains: softly talked about
Pain: well it's awfully loud
I spot a helper that I need to lift this weight for me

Wait for me! Don't leave me here in Mourning
It's not my favourite place to be I visit every morning
But before I could finish
My tour guide had all but diminished
All in an instance
He was gone in the distance

I don't remember this
Gotta make the best of this
I'm not prepared for this.
I've gotta make the best of this

Finished off my daily spar with Grief and left the gym
Misery wanted some company I left with him
Anxiety keeps finding me I'm tired, nothing left within
I'm telling Stress about my stress it seems I'm even stressing him

And he's seen it all
1st, 2nd, 3rd world problems, even 4th, even more
He told me: "Liam here's the score
Take your chance, here's the door
Make a stand - here's your floor
Turn the crying to a roar
You can't do both it's either or

I've had a couple ups and downs
Versing the Adversity I beat him in a couple rounds
Or so I thought but now he keeps on getting off the ground
Asking me to knuckle up and I'm just trying to knuckle down
Oh No
Here comes Fear and Paranoid
I've been ignoring all their calls I fear I've got the pair annoyed
What's that smell? Failure
That's just my next door neighbour
Heavy smoker, never joking
Grind you up and exhale ya

I don't remember this
Gotta make the best of this
I'm not prepared for this.
I've gotta make the best of it though

This is the company I keep right now
It's 3 am and I can't sleep right now
Not a wink &
That turns to a lot of thinking
I burn through a lot of ink &
My girl knows not an inkling

Until I pause and it pours out my pores
And I'm forced to ignore
All these thoughts but I'm tortured
No torch and
No light here before me
I'm frightened
I'm tired
It gets fraught
My Chest tightens, breath short
My heads like a chess board
Get's set for the next war
Each night I get prepped for
The next dawn
I guess "mourning's"
Called that for a reason right?

My King crossed over, that's sorta of like treason, right? (WRONG!)

He was a prisoner of war: P.O.W.
Mum kissed him on the forehead we see what it's done to you
Darling you must go where this C-Word won't trouble you

Gone but not forgotten now we'll keep what we love of you

If this is what they call heartache
How much can my poor heart take?