Cobwebs

What the hell's wrong with you, man?
No, you know it's just not my thing;
I'm always on the lookout for a muse to light my way...
So, I can't suggest it ever was to be like this, but what do you got to bring to the table this time?

And I prithee you don't use circumstance to make me feel like shit;
Nor do you point fingers at what you don't understand and attempt providing your own solution.
'Cuz we're all free in this fucked up mixture, standing bright under this shady palm; the invitation's open for you to join!
But don't - oh, no; please don't - assume and bring your false pretense `round here when you come by...

Because I was just on my way there when
You up and denied me access with your upright, locked position in this mess,
So, with that, I just turned a blind eye that way and wondered why I even still gave a damn;
With this in mind and your questions never-ending, I just don't know what to say:
It just gets so exhausting having to repeat the same, old story over and over again...
And I think you know the answer, so just stop trying to sweep the cobwebs off the floor.

But, now, with things picking up, you look at me, scared that I don't need you for...
I can't securely say I have a case there, but I might not want to do this anymore.
Yeah... I always thought you to be beautiful even when you weren't here;
Don't you know it hurts, though, when I can't tell you my deepest sentiment?

Chorus