I could never understand what it’s like to fail
Until I read it on the faces of the lovers I impaled
So here’s another nail, go teeter on a scale
Of the weight that’s never really worth the tears upon the trail
Stalemating rituals are just a medicine that got
The population thinking they can be connected when they’re not
I got a lot of inhibitions, insecurities, and critics
In addition to a conscience that could murder me in minutes
Minutes, minutes, welcome to the gates of Hell
I really hope you get a chance to finish finish
Tell them all the things you felt and maybe they’ll be sympathetic
Right before you hang yourself and listen, listen
I’m gonna bite the hand that feeds until I masticate
And make it live in me a symphony that dance in acid rain
It’s like I’m all alone inside a little winter
Getting bitter from the frigid shivers when I think and paint the saddest faces
Funeral arrangements juxtaposed with all the beautiful bouquets it’s difficult now
To a more basic love and hopes when only you alone face it if I fall down
Down down on luck I hope it’s temporary some psychosis
I bet that the sun exploded years ago but we don’t know it-Sadistik
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Lucem, you're right, it's silly to talk about what I would or wouldn't do IRL. Glad you brought it up. Maybe you should write an instrumental about it. I recommend a piano paired with a clarinet. With ambient sounds of you hanging from your shower curtain you ****ing failure.
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Art Is Dead. Buy My ****.
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