The mind makes life so complicated

It’s like the thoughts in my head confiscated my life

I have no control over them like an involuntary blink

Which is ironic cuz initially; I have the ability to think

But wait, does one exist without the mind?

Cuz from time to time I have caught myself

Reading in between the lines at unnecessary times

I’m so tired of thinking

I have inflicted so much pain

From the cause and effects of my brain

I’m so tired of thinking

I have followed the wrong path before

And melted faulty elements in me like smores

I’m so tired of thinking

I have said so many words in the past with much thought

And still they come out of my esophagus wrong

Like Satan trynna sing St. Nicholas a song

I am so sick and tired of thinking

Yo on the real, this up here can either make you or break you

It sure broke me like I ran over by a still tree

Ya see, now that sounded stupid cuz being clueless is easier than using this

Using your mind can’t be the beauty of life cuz sometimes I think ugly

And there is something that forces crooked minds not to see straight

And when I find out what that is, won’t that be great

Cuz when I do I’ll finally know why you can interpret two words, 50,000 ways

And why criminals don’t care about yesterday, tomorrow, or today

Sometimes when I go home to rest my dome I look in the mirror

and my mind starts to play tricks on me

And I convince myself to think things that will never happen,

See things that will never experience the light of day

Then my mind plunges me into a state of dismay

And check this, as weird as it may sound, I start thinking about the number two, I hate the number two

Why are there always two sides to a story?

One is exciting the other is boring

One side is blissful, the other can be detrimental

Why are there two sides of a coin?

One side is clean, the other can be dirty

One side will blossom your life, the other will get you smite

Why is love contrasted between light and dark?

Both in respect can blind my heart

I love the warm light and I hate the cold dark

But does the number two really blind my heart?

Na I don’t think so, It’s that puppet master that rests on my shoulders

So I jump to conclusions quick like I’m being hit by falling boulders

Seventeen years on Earth, please believe me,

I’m suffering from thinking fatigue

I’m tired of thinking