Mr. Nobody

I'm just about done, but I'm so apathetic And dealing with the hardest part of an artist that really get it Unedited non-repetitive etiquette for the mind And blatantly less competitive rhetoric in my rhymes At times I like to battle the shadow that don't exist Express a need for slaughtering cattle but then I miss The point of why I do it, what would I do without The invisible person that I'm always talking about Now I'm switching the style, I got emotion conveyed And I'm a little more in tune with what I'm trying to relay Just a little bit more honest in the things that I say And the result is a temporary high that'll never stay It fades, motivation proven quick to diminish And suddenly everything that's significant's never finished Now you can cover the blemish, project your positive talents But everybody knows a real artist will lack in balance That's the challenge, self reflection Cause if you never really move in a direction And you never really make a decision You have no identity or face they can envision Mr . Nobody, with 37 masks Recognized what it was and without the looking glass So now we're falling fast way beyond the rabbit hole With inspiration's invitation clearly incompatible Remember it all Remember the feeling you get right before you fall Just how perfect and intricate every detail and flaw But when it's gone it don't exist except for you to recall But the image is poor, the memory pretty vague And every positive sensations that you felt had a plague All that's really displayed now is your lack of desire The illness shatter your dreams, laughed and put out the fire You're a liar in regard to every line that you've written Finally concluded that you're faking it when you're spittin' Your personality's split and with passion this intermittent I can only hold invalid all the love that I'm gettin' So here's a wall I've been hittin', been staring at it for months All I want to do is finish a project for once Looking for it it blunts, bottles, pretending to care But the bottom line is it's something you could never repair But I'm there so I wait, for it to hit me again Provoking thoughts that'll require me to pick up a pen Till then, I'm just a slave to the way that I feel Going patterns in the cycle knowing nothing is real, damn