| A clock without a minute hand
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| An hourglass without sand
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| Suspended within space and time
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| I walk a thin line
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| Amongst the masses all alone
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| A furnished house with no one home
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| I see through walls that’s hard to climb
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| I’m losing my mind
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| No medicaid, no medication
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| Thinking you’re better off dead
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| Instead should have been dedicated to education
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| I spin, the cylinder on my revolver
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| I spin, the cylinder
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| Would someone explain who’d leave a dick in charge of a bush
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| Of a colon I’m screwed, saw more war than Warsaw Poland, viewed
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| An infant’s insides, outside of his body
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| Inside of a place of worship, ungodly
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| Out cries tears «Dear God, where are we?»
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| That’s what I scream towards the skyline but probably
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| No one can hear a word of what I was saying
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| Insurgents surged in the temple where I was praying
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| Now flashbacks wake me abruptly when police pass by
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| Lights flash, if i could only put the past on a flashdrive I’d
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| For peace of mind, install an external drive
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| So I’d be more driven internally to survive
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| I’m…
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| A clock without a minute hand
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| An hourglass without sand
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| (So I spin, the cylinder on my revolver
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| I spin, the cylinder on my revolver)
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| Amongst the masses all alone
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| A furnished house with no one home
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| (So I spin, the cylinder on my revolver
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| I spin, the cylinder on my revolver)
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| My family customs were not accustomed to dealing with mental health
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| It was more or less an issue for white families with wealth
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| Void, I defected, employed self annoyed
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| Went independent, enjoyed stealth
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| Now doctors prescribed sedatives and Prozac
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| The rent’s cheaper in the ghetto but you can’t go back
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| So I, spin the cylinder on my revolver
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| Then, maybe let it draw blood like Chupacabra
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| And dissolve into the abyss, without evolving
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| Instead of revolving around the habitual problem solver
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| Research like, George Washington Carver
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| But no answer so my mantra is to deal with it in and chart then
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| Part, instead of being incredibly defiant
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| Peddle through revenue issues I’ll do it for medical science
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| It’s better to be level-headed than to regret it and pious
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| Settling for life without sun-shine, never vibrant, I’m…
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| A clock without a minute hand
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| An hourglass without sand
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| Suspended within space and time
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| I walk a thin line
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| Amongst the masses all alone
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| A furnished house with no one home
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| I can see through walls it’s hard to climb
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| I’m losing my- I’m losing my mind |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Losing My Mind, artist - Pharoahe Monch. Album song PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп