Dusty

I've got lots, I want more. Losing space up on the floor

Adding up, I'm still bored. Everything feels like a chore

At the store, buying produce, feel that pressure for production

Apple core, avoid what matters, chronological consumption

I'm a master procrastinator. Always save things for later

I'm digging holes, dig craters. My own exacerbator

But also my own savior. I make my problems taper

Create the highs and lows. To give my life some flavor

Things get bland, oh so bland. I can't bear it, I can't stand it

Laying on the floor, I'm planted. Wishing I could make it happen

Looks like I'm taking life for granted

But really I'm just feeling stranded