Lyrics This Is He - 22

My worried world is full of wonder
Every move is another blunder
This sinking ship will sure go under
If we don't act fast
This laceration's getting deeper
Into the soul of a non-believer
I'm growing weary from the fever
I sure won't last

I am a painting without color
I am one without the other
I'm the fire that you can't smother
I'm the weakest rope
I'm a rhyme that's got no reason
I'm the highest form of treason
I'm a year without a season
I've lost all hope

And, my legs are numb from running circles
Trying to find myself again
Time slips by, I'm lost in my mind
Feel the sweet nostalgic wind

This is the end
You know this is the end