With Excuses

I'm the plan for the center
And the mind of a mister
Who finds spending time
Picking scabs and popping blisters
I'm almost out of words
And were almost out of the woods
Eating goods in proportion
Reading tales of misfortune

I'm the trip of the alter
Singing lies that'll haunt ya
Or give you sick faith
And bring you back to this place
Where your mind will still be halted
And we're tricked to be all good
Or at least that's what they taught ya'
With excuses we simply all could

Be right...