written boldly, here for amiright
six or seven, I give most every night
my hands are shaking, My face is flushed and white...
mental block...

when I wrote eighteen, I didn't have a care,
now I'm empty, I'm pulling out my hair
now I'm lucky if I can write a pair...
mental block

my hands are typing, my mind is not too bright
I check my spelling, and the screen is empty white
now I'm crying, I've lost it all tonight..
mental block

mental block.. nothing's comin now to me
mental block... can I write this parody
mental block what is happening to me?
mental block


and now I've wrote eight
no longer under weight
maybe the problem's in my genes
I'm too proud, but I feel small
have I lost it all?
I feel around in my jeans

twenty songs now, think tank's running low
song submissions, really coming slow
I sit and wonder sometimes..
am I gone?

and sometimes late at night
as I submit to amiright
the screen's no longer ghostly white,
and I recall..
recall...

mental block... open up the gate
mental block, again I will be great
mental block just had to masturbate
mental block

mental block.. got back my inner drives
mental block so give me triple 5's
mental block again I feel alive
mental block