Hundredth. Sinking. Zeneszám

It's so hard to make an effort,
To keep my surroundings in line.
When sometimes, I can't do it for myself.
I confess: I'm not the man I proclaim.
My feet, my feet are sinking
Into the mire beneath me, the mire, the mire beneath me.

I can't help but notice the endless battle for air
While being swept by the tides of complacency.
My knowledge is accountability
And I have to do something, I have to do something.
Blinded by the plank in my eye,
I cannot guide anyone.

I have to do something.
I have to do something.

This lonely vessel is surely sinking,
I'm surely sinking,
I'm surely sinking,
I'm surely sinking.

Take me,
if it means they die to themselves,
Only to raise up their new lives.
Stop me in my tracks if it will shake them.
Stop, stop me.
Stop me.

We are nothing without each other.