Figure Eight

Soft tap at the door, you've done it again Bipolar actions and no consequence Lacking influence, but not apathy Your stubborn pride follows where you lead If I'm not up mourning, till dawn I'll likely be gushing my prosaic song Won't tell a soul, cause that's what you do Bury the bones before they bury you In a figure eight Figuring it out Burning head first Headed for the ground Eggshells on the floor at the rainy parade Drafty hallways leading up to the charade And you're like An open floor concept with a gated fence Every window open, doors locked in defense In a figure eight Figuring it out Burning head first Headed for the ground It's always up and down Say you don't like my attitude, you must hate yours Cause you sowed the seeds of my very corpse Say you don't like yourself, why should I like me When I'm your carbon copy Say you don't like my attitude, you must hate yours Cause you sowed the seeds of my very corpse Say you don't like yourself, why should I like me When I'm your carbon copy I love when neither of us are right So instead of peace, we just fight Why should I have to apologize When you're the adult and I'm the child In a figure eight Figuring it out Burning head first Headed for the ground Where do we go now In a figure eight Figuring it out Burning head first Headed for the ground It's always up then back down