mistaking for survival

my brain-it runs circles
myeyes twitch-my face wincing
my mind-it can't focus
it just keeps reminiscing

it reminds me of your smell
slowly fading-slightly taunting
it plays our song again and again
it's soothing and peacfully taunting

it's so bad now; i can no longer draw free-hand
it's just my memories i keep tracing
over and over while i'm lying still like death
or running in circles; frantically pacing

i'm never still...
and still...

i hear that song; our song
always in my head it's our song
the soundtrack playing always seems so right
even when everything else is so wrong

so i've propped myself up
up against this wall
'cuz i'm too afraid to stand alone
too afraid i'll fall

so now i'm leaning
and trying to focus
trying to pray
while i practice hocus-pocus

concentrating on the feeling of fallinf
falling under the spell
and trying to force out every last drop
from a nearly all dried-up well

and all the while
pushing me along,
it's the same rythm that i move to
it's the rythm of our song

and it's that same song that plays
each night in my head
singing me to sleep
(if i can find a bed)
and then it wakes me every morning
helping lift my body of lead

pulling me in to each new day
and each new day is a revival
a revival of what i keep mistaking
sadly mistaking for survival