An illusion called circumstance

I stop counting at twenty five and i decide to reopen my eyes.
Inches from a place, i never thought i'd be, and now i'd rather not leave.
Seasonal is not feasible and neither is feelin' this alone. stay under, the answer hasn't risen yet.
I know it's hard to hold your breath.
Tonight i'll try and run it out, but i've heard resilience is his middle name.
And i've seen and been hypnotized by his spinning, spinning inviting eyes.
Tomorrow i will try and beat it out.
But my last scars still haven't healed.
Stay under, the answer hasn't risen yet.
I know its hard to hold your breath.
And they fester, open sores. self-inflicted, behind these doors.
Next week i'll try and run it out.
But he still clings to my five year old sneaker soles.
No one ever really sees.
Blinded by an illusion he calls circumstance.
Stay under, the answer hasn't risen yet. i
Know it's hard to hold your breath.