Bow Out

My circle seems to be getting smaller
Does change scare people away?
It seems kinda funny sometimes
My friends don’t like self-improvement
Why bother hovering around here
All you wanna do is fucking drink
Piss and moan about everything
Blame everyone not named you

Toxic environment inside the studio
That doubled as a midnight confessional
Cigarette smoke and whiskey breath
Spilling secrets about your alter-ego
Muttering something about messiah's
As if you’re some kind of prophet
Claiming to wear the mark of Cain
I don’t know how you tried to explain it

What it comes down to is simply this
I thought I was done with writing
Since you took the music from me
I sometimes feel you sabotaged it all
What makes you think that your better?
Trying to control everyone around
Holding onto talent for spiritual ransom
Because of your twisted arrogance

Guess I thought I was past all this
Knowing it won’t change anything
I mean all that history’s been written
All is forgiven but never forgotten
In the end I’m better off today
My creativity resurfaced recently
I’ve upped my fucking game
Only I decide when to bow out