Fit Your Life Into A Grid

Cynical and bright
A tad unkind, a part uptight
But not too rude
A mostly focused mind
I'll let you throw me in the deep
And watch me sink
I start to think of what I know
And expect the worst this time
Well, alright

My mother's son is calloused
With youthful catatonic fear
Of something without balance
This almost killed me once this year
I coughed up so much blood
A new tradition
Some ammunition
Well, what if I should drown?
Who would drag me out?

Fit your life into a grid
Then wait for the dead to forget
Breathing for nothing
Sell your soul and nothing

Cynical and bright
A tad unkind, a part uptight
But what's the use?
A most unfocused mind
So determined this time

Memory of being 8 years old
And I was all alone
Clothes soaked in chlorine
Embarrassed of my childhood results
As an adult denying everything

Mother's son is calloused
Unbridled and tenacious fear
Of something without balance
It almost killed me twice that year
I coughed up so much blood
A new condition
Some ammunition
What if I should drown?
Would you drag me out?