The Truth

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Eternally giving up faith in my dreams,

No more work put into ripped seams,

Maybe this all just wasn't meant for me,

I look at my idols like, "Why can't I be you?"

The same question I ask through and through,

It's getting a bit repetitive now, man I need something new,

A fresh start, even, just a few more bars,

Before I eventually fade into one of the bums gazing at the stars,

Thinking the same wishes I have now,

We have one question in common: "But how?"

It starts with the dream of success,

After you perfect it, you start to progress,

Spit a few bars, learn to impress,

Gain some followers, call yourself blessed,

Might as well make the most of this, but my only request:

Assure me this time, I won't be as depressed