The Pursuit of Happiness

Here he goes again, yeah, he's fucking obsessed, he feels pathetic
Obsessed with the aesthetic, obsessed, forget the rhetoric
This time it ain't a tirade; sorry to rain on parades
But this time a secret is on display
And it ain't what y'all are used to hearin' him spit
And it ain't what he's used to hearin' himself spit
It's kinetic and it ain't of a revolutionary nature
But revelatory flavour of the age
Last time he'd mistaken the definition but this time it's right
And this time personal yet he's up on the mic
Still on the mic; no rest for Michael
No rest for the Poet but the greatest opportunity to show it
Or the worst or only or nonexistent
It's all the same when you put yourself in this position
Bloody heart on the sleeve; he's got no other place to put it
Trust he looked, he searched high and fucking low
But nada, so he booked, grabbed the armour despite of all the chinks
Thought it would be enough but armour's heavy so he sinks
And the water in his eyes, it stings and turns to tears
Well, not quite, but it's kept him up at night for years
In contemporary fantasy land
He's got himself believing it's possible, so horrible the hopes of man
Images bring a smile for a second but a sigh for eternity
And yet he can't bring himself to understand
Or at least withstand the impulse to dream
When fully conscious but it muffles the screaming in his head
So, he jumps into his bed without a second thought
Favourite action of the day is waging war with himself
Elaboration: what he thinks about it makes him warm inside
And, oh so cold at the same time
Delirious and serious are one and the same
But never looking for another face to take the fucking blame
He hopes, he wishes, he'd die to live a life like
The life like he lives when he closes his eyes
'Cause the life he lives now he despises
And well, nearly anything different could well be paradise
Second elaboration 'cause the first, it wasn't clear
What he wants is happiness and unless he dreams about it it just disappears
The moment he pictures it; ecstasy
But it's just a picture; but it's a dependency
A tendency that drains the best of him and drains the rest of him as well
This facade ain't got a tell, so hell
Here he goes, now everybody knows
That he's miserable as fuck and it ain't just for show
He always knew that it was gonna be like this
He's always seen it coming
But he's never really been the type for running
And he can't really run from fate, so, he settled and braced
For the permanent taste; now you can see it on his face