Basement Armistice Letra

Cant rid myself of this self pitty. I've got my feet stuck in the mud, lift me out. All I can do is feel sorry for myself. Motives unknown and unforgiving. I wish I could be looking at someone elses words instead of mine, for then I would feel remorse instead. But this pain is mine and it feels like a needle. Digging deeper than the deepest vein can reach, and I can't even comprehend. A life so full of fruit and glory, but it all seems stale to me. Self anxiety. Yet it contrives my simple being Moods of most wicked consequences, but I could think of much worse than this. The days when I can't even make sense of my own sense. Save me, rid of these pains Patience is found today.