Chain Gang Reaction(ary)

My history's repeating itself, it seems
Or is it just me sifting through the seams?
Do I have the wherewithal to separate them
My reality and my dreams?
All the allergies are adding to this disease
So insensitive to salt my wounded knees
It's hard to speak and take control when
All I really want to do is stop and cease

It's not the most, but it's close
And it's all I've got
This may not be my place, I've been granted
The grace of your god

Every alternate route and shortcut screams
Of your optimistic dreamer's dreams
Every road leads to nowhere
Every road leads to somewhere
Everything's as it seems
I'm separating myself from the fat and lean
Trying to fit into the middle of that whole scene
Analyzing everything just complicates the procedure
Siphon from the stream

It's not the most, it's the least
But it's all I see
It's my best guess the end
Don't justify the means

I like everything that I can taste and see
Like the feel of discomfort and luxury
Living through the death of a moment
Just gives to me
My thoughts can be so anorexic and obscene
Pathologically lethargic and so in need
A dysenteric, diuretic stream of
Incoherent philosophy

It's not the most, but it's close
And it's all I've got
A shot in the dark, scattershot
And it's my own lot