Well it turns out all my travels circled right back to the start
All around a trail of half-accomplished deeds and broken hearts
A decade pa**ed, back digging out my space behind the ball
And falling back on wishful thinking, imbalance, and alcohol
So while I really do appreciate the thought
Well I need ten thousand dollars and a ticket to the top
I never stuck around long enough to watch nothing take hold
Wound too tight to play a less than perfect hand when I could fold
I start to think adults and adolescents are the same
But they're just wearing different faces
And they're playing different games
And it might seem to you that I'm an open book
A bit more like an open casket
Either way it's worth a look
And so I pledge that I'll start over
Appeal to Saint Christopher again
And see it to the end
I don't know where I have gone
I just know where I have been
So while I really do appreciate the thought
I would rather that you join me as I spit and burn white hot