Half-Life Songtext
von Cryptic One

Half empty and half full life vision, is impaired
My life glass is always full
Half with water half with air
In life i try to outrun time but time runs out before I′m done
Fatigued I walk the fine line between fine lines and wide ones


Path follow
Half hollow
Half solid, part sorrow
Positive tomorrow won't be positive... pride swallowed
The answer to this life′s message? this age is a mess
And I'm just here to get mine before I reach the mountain crest
See life's a glass of wine and mine′s filled, for real
And wine′s ill, sometimes wine might spill
But wine stains brains intoxicated thought, Pisa tower tilt
Thoughts bloom to let idea flowers wilt
Two lips (tulips) arose (a rose) to plant these seeds in dry desert land
A pleasant peasants plan to harvest fruit on dry weathered land
Plan foiled, times sand damns soil, forms sand storm abrasions
Wounded walk, no forced creation
Empty, or full
Step up and take your pick
Ironically most empty minds are quite full...
Full of shit
And I ain't talking fertilizer, fool
I′m talking sewage pipe clogging waste, and a cesspool
See life's a bill, and time is money... how much do you have left?
I stretch time partially paying all my bills before death collects
And life is a four letter word and death ain′t?
The best artists, ain't always blessed with the best paint
I painted pictures in mud
I′ve painted pictures in blood
I painted pictures of pictures, painting pictures is my love
I painted pictures with rhymes
I painted pictures in time
I painted pictures with scriptures
Painting pictures in minds

Half empty and half full life vision, is impaired
My life glass is always full
Half with water half with air
In life i try to outrun time but time runs out before I'm done
Fatigued I walk the fine line between fine lines and wide ones


Shall we continue? On to life's menu
I glance at the right side, the prices high but still I tend to
Order an appetizer of pain
Before the main course
An entree of sanity loss, with nice spicy anarchy sauce
Hurt for dessert, with pessimistic dip
I believe the Mr. Pink demeanor, leaving her no tip
I think I′m a dreamer trapped
In a self created sadomasochistic trip
Equipped with a meat cleaver sharp wit
A meager attempt to deal with it until my life slips
Into nothingness
Or shifts to the unlikely event of fluffiness
Of cloud 9 residence
Move blind forward
With no hesitance
With four words
"Live as a pessimist"
Cursed to expect the worst
But hope for the best
My disappointment meets pestilence
Since birth I should have walked lifes precipice
Approach hope leaving behind the decadence
Of self inflicted negative messages
Plus repetitive
Faulty life lessons
An impacting impression
Never underestimate the power of self suggestion
I finished life′s meal, satisfied post digestion
And die to realize I wasted half my life upon depression

Im tired of all this cryptic bullshit
I'm physically and psychologically exhausted
I′m ready to kick back and welcome the end of existence
Why me?
Of all the people on the god damned planet, why me?