Wriggling through these riddles all the time,
scratching patches of my mind,
in this restless world of mine.
What do you find when you hunt out your own fears?
Peaceful sleeping patterns seem so near.
24-7 in your blanket underground,
absent from the world above,
telling stories of your own, by yourself, to yourself.
Stomping through these conversations with a gleam,
turning, turning, yearning all the time.
i find the time to wind up, step back,
appreciating everything.
Stand up, turn on your mind, stand out,
present the present before the future
of your entire life.
tearing through your room is your tornado,
twisting up this chiselled mind i think you'll find
that as the one,
you're walking that fine line.