Fake Leather Chair

Sitting naked on my fake leather chair
Playing this predictable song
‘'But the rhythm’s kind of fun''
I miss creativity
Lack of productivity, I
Suffer from inactivity
And I’ve got all these projects going on yet I can’t follow
Running out of ideas my originality is close to none
But I still don’t think that I’ve the earn the right to whine about my own
I just need to find what really turns me on
I’m losing the fight against my mind
When I shouldn’t try so hard to break the binds
I only want to cut out of my skin
Burning from within
I really need to get out, way out of here
Before I fall in disbelief
‘'I need some kind of relief''
There’s just so many thing that I should be doing right now but I
Can’t find no good reasons to try
I’m starting to become more and more, more and more numb
Proceeding aimlessly my energy has no outcome
Living by mechanical actions to fulfill my needs
So far from cerebral serenity