Music's driving me insane

I heard that it changes the brain

And its true, I've never felt the same

Since I started listening

And its true that I sometimes hate this art of shifting rhymes

Because now nothing else feels interesting, and I regret when I started trying

This cursed art that others call a blessing

Nevertheless, I've fallen in too deep now to come out

For it has become a part of what I'm about

Whatever I write, it sounds different in my mind 

From what comes out of my mouth

I dream too much and I do too little and have problems sitting still

My thoughts roam much and I go out too little and the old failures are biting still

I wish I could shape my mind, or change it to make me remind

That different things matter at different times

That I must focus on my studies, work and life rather than make rhymes

But its like trying to convince a child

For pleasure all the world goes wild

And I'm just a person whose will is too mild

To take charge of himself, that's right

Mind over matter, but what's over the mind

Nothing but old dreams that remind

Everyday, while I procrastinate all the time.