Hills, surround me
I have to climb up to survive
But chills, entice me
To stay in my hole, and hide

I try to live out my life
by keeping to me, myself, and I
But I'm telling you
One of these days
A backhand to the face will force my change

No thrills, responsibilities
I have to own up to them
But still, the possibility
Of not doing just that is my phlegm

And I cant get it out of my throat
No matter how much I clear it I still choke
And I cant help but wonder
how long I can live in this blunder

And no matter what I choose to do
I cant think of any better clue
of getting out of this hole besides you
And no matter what I choose to think
I feel I'm living on the brink
I can't change
my story's in ink