It's painful The soul wants out And I can't see A seed of doubt You're not listening or hearing what she said And I would rather have this talk in bed How does anyone compete cause you see me underneath Can you man up and send an SMS? Checking out of Avian my mind went south I moved back home with my brothers on the couch Man, it felt pretty good to have another one Understand where you're coming from, no lies And even if I did wanna see if it would work It just wouldn't involve The feeling it requires, rooted in desire And you don't have a cause For wasting your time, when you're doing fine On your own (I'm out here with my pilgrims) (I'm out here with my pilgrims) (We're sippin on that, you know what?) (I know I know, in a century, you could ask about me, in a century) (Pilgrims, I know in a century you could ask about me) (In a century, you know, I know I know) (In a century, you could ask about me)