 
Progressive / electronic / rock / rap Whatever I feel is right
The Trying. A name representing something we must constantly be doing in our lives. This is the epitome of myself. This is my space without restrictions. The personal/political - inseparably wound.
 	
Lyrics
Hungry, hungry 
Dizzy, dizzy 
This excess flesh 
It hangs within me 
Dirty, dirty 
Heavy, heavy 
I’ll infect it be- 
fore it infects me 
Churning, churning 
Screaming, screaming 
I will event- 
ually feed me 
Waiting, waiting 
Hating, hating 
Until then 
I’ll teach me a lesson 
Hungry, hungry 
Worried, worried 
Guilty, guilty 
Awful, awful 
Dizzy, dizzy 
Enjoy, enjoy 
No more, no more 
Awful, awful 
There’s no cutting 
Tearing 
Bleeding 
Instead there’s nothing 
Starving 
Stopping 
Hardly for image 
Reflection 
Unsatisfaction 
But for hatred 
Fraction 
Lacking… 
Hungry, hungry 
Worried, worried 
Guilty, guilty 
Awful, awful 
Dizzy, dizzy 
Enjoy, enjoy 
No more, no more 
Awful, awful 
Mirror, mirror on the wall 
I am about to fall 
I can see my snow demon 
Not enough time to cover it 
Mirror, mirror, should I save face? 
There has never been a place 
There has never been a time 
I just always let it shine 
Mirror, mirror I pity me 
Should I not let them see? 
I am fading, I am falling 
And so soon, I’ll be crawling 
This punishment takes so long 
I want to speed to it up 
Cutting along the dotted line 
I am a dotted line 
I don’t even have a prime 
I am just a dotted line 
I keep looking but cannot find 
How to make me a solid line 
That way this world would fold me 
Before I continue with the cutting 
And the spit would weaken me 
Damp and so easy for ripping 
Perhaps the line is irrelevant 
But the material in which it represents 
Because I know it’s the disgust 
And not the stomach 
The only thing in which I can’t destroy 
Is that inner little boy 
The one who used to have a dad 
The one who was never sad 
The one who died at age four 
The one who wished he wasn’t born 
The one in which lost everyone 
The one in which I often shun 
I am just a dotted line 
Confined to paper, on which I draw 
But like all other pieces 
I will be wadded and disposed 
Unless I frame me for all to see 
And stand the test of history 
I am just a dotted line 
I hope in the future, you all will find 
Hungry, hungry 
Worried, worried 
Guilty, guilty 
Awful, awful 
Dizzy, dizzy 
Enjoy, enjoy 
No more, no more 
Awful, awful 
As I keep myself hollow 
The more and more this pain grows 
Shingle shackled to my skin 
I’ll just do it again and again 
Full of hunger and full of pain 
With no will to make it go away 
Full of apathy and sadness 
I just want my innocence 
And as I’m empty more and more 
My face becomes more stern and firm 
A habit that can catch on quick 
I wonder if it will stick