Finalist

In February I was put in fight or flight My cortisol had climbed to Appalachian heights I'm the shining prince of ambivalence A gentle catalyst Will I get used to this? Will I get used to this? Please have mercy on me 'Cause nothing's what it used to be Grant me strength, some dignity Spare me all your sympathy As I adjust to me and only me In solitary life, demons exorcise Can I turn out the light, or will they multiply? I'm a finalist for the childless A subtle catalyst Will I get used to this? Will I get used to this? Please have mercy on me 'Cause nothing's what it used to be Grant me strength, some dignity And spare me all your sympathy As I adjust to me and only me When waking up starts to feel Like more of an expense The grass will always be greener When I'm sitting on the fence At least I know myself enough To shy from the buttons I could press So I have to make this count So I can put it all to rest And not leave you in suspense Will I get used to this? Will I get used to this?