Build Me Up

Oh, tired mind
You must blur those creative lines
And I try and try and try and try and try
For what am I
But emotion and predetermined lies
That I’ll never
No I’ll never rectify

So build me up
Again
For when I fall
I’ll make good art again
So build me
Build me up
My friends

What is this
What is this
This illness that you call a creative gift
This illness that you call a gift
Supposed to make me more
Than I am?
And what I know of hell
Is your heaven will always expel
Me for the impurities that lie
In my head

So build me up
Up
Again
For if I fall
I’ll make good art
So build me
Build me up
Build me up my friends
For my worth lies
In my ability to sin
And I do it with a steady hand
In pen

Oh, why do you need me to bleed for you
All these things I create
Just to help myself through
Would there still be value left in my art
If I didn’t have the sight to see
Was it there from the start?
Or was it only my pain
That made me the artist I am today
Does that mean I have to choose between
Happiness and being great?

Oh, build me up
Build me up again
Oh, build me up
For when I fall I’ll make good art again
Oh, build me up

So build me
Build me up my friend
Build me up
'Cause my worth lies in my ability to sin

Build me up
My friend
Oh, build me up
For worth lies in my ability to sin
Oh, build me up
Oh, build me up
Oh, build me up
Build me up