to dust we shall return

I will never be adequate
I'm a subject without a predicate
I am a run on sentence in the middle of a rain dance
the clouds come to parade through my rainy day
so I sit and watch the chaos run its course
stretching itself thin
into an end we would have seen if we hadn't been looking so hard
from dust we began and to dust we shall return to finally rest
above or below, it's all relative
just stop embellishing
and thinking that you are better than
any of us broken models
searching for some spare parts
to patch up these broken hearts
nobody knows what it means to be complete
but we bite and we scream
until we make real what we dream
competing til all our steam has been depleted
fighting til our dreams are all we know
in that endless sleep, hoping to be sheep
not just to be a follower, but to have that shepherd
keep me safe from these beasts and
these cold nights that drown out the alarm clock's screech
trying to bring back the sun, one lonely cry after another
just a mime, pulling this invisible rope
anything can be real if you believe in it enough
like love underneath the bleachers
or making all this more seem more like less
filling up these holes with emptiness
hoping that maybe this time we won't notice
and just keep livin happily within this ignorance
watching this shit through a filter
and I'm tryin to avoid havin children
cuz I can't bring more life into this ill mess
and these women leave me chasin the wind
holdin my breath so that you can't take it away