So I I can help myself I need no one else Just to tell me The world is my oyster And everything’s great Cause I know that it’s not All you fucks are the same All I need’s being drunk with my best friends at night More tattoos and more friends who hate things that I don’t like
“Well is that what you live for To tell yourself you’re not sure To realize at the end of the day you’re useless”
I know That my dad was right With all of his advice I should’ve listened
But maybe these experiences Hold some sort of epiphany Like that the finer things in life to me Are high life friends and my family
but I’m happiest when I’m alone smoking cigarettes and thinking in the cold it’s a long way down when you’re 6 feet underground And success is a state of mind that I’ll never fully reach Because what’s the point If there’s even a point Life’s a reoccurring hangover I can’t fucking sleep it off I’m fucked and that’s the way I like it
So God He can’t save us now He’s in our living hell And he knows that I’m still sick and tired Of just being fucked On this brass bed of nails That keeps puncturing my lungs I keep closing my eyes and breathing in deep all the colors are gone and I can finally sleep