Elysian Kalon
Clumsy Little Potato
Fight
Elysian Kalon
We all fight our own demons,
Each one unique
But as with every battle,
There are gains,
And there are losses.
The demons gain ground
Shoving us down into the deep depths of depression
Bloodying and battering our self-confidence,
Creating unwarranted fear at every sound or shadow
But we beat them back
And give them what they’ve given us
Sometimes there are days where they gain too much,
Those are the days when death seems a viable option
When we cause physical pain to escape mental
When it seems the entire world hates us
But though we may fear what lies ahead
We fight back.
We fight back because
We don’t want to release our demons on others
But we have been beaten down and have turned
the hate that the demos deserve
On ourselves
We need to realise we are not alone
That he have those that can help
We need to see the beauty in things
Because it's beautiful the way we fall apart
It’s magical and tragical all at once
We think we’re invincible and unbreakable
Even as we shatter and crack on the inside.
We fight,
For ourselves,
For the world,
For freedom
And someday we’ll be free.
Or we’ll be dead.
But that's a sort of freedom
Isn’t it?
Elysian Kalon
We all fight our own demons,
Each one unique
But as with every battle,
There are gains,
And there are losses.
The demons gain ground
Shoving us down into the deep depths of depression
Bloodying and battering our self-confidence,
Creating unwarranted fear at every sound or shadow
But we beat them back
And give them what they’ve given us
Sometimes there are days where they gain too much,
Those are the days when death seems a viable option
When we cause physical pain to escape mental
When it seems the entire world hates us
But though we may fear what lies ahead
We fight back.
We fight back because
We don’t want to release our demons on others
But we have been beaten down and have turned
the hate that the demos deserve
On ourselves
We need to realise we are not alone
That he have those that can help
We need to see the beauty in things
Because it's beautiful the way we fall apart
It’s magical and tragical all at once
We think we’re invincible and unbreakable
Even as we shatter and crack on the inside.
We fight,
For ourselves,
For the world,
For freedom
And someday we’ll be free.
Or we’ll be dead.
But that's a sort of freedom
Isn’t it?