[Intro] Hah...these feelings be like...an open grave...weres the end were not knowing were it began...passed time... [Verse 1] Tic toc these feelings be marigo deranged..a such curse thought I must be in a dilemma self made..meined wrapped around tight chain unturned and berserk untamed...there comin with the white jacket,shackles,and chains...lock up an throw away the key...type never heard no see no evil like Im a mute dumbfounded like shit be like some fantasy sea scape raped world rewound on tape...then show the kids how fake a world makes to suck em in then tape how we keep you engaged...its really feelings..just feelings...then the time that it takes on thirty and life its just sick crazy and insane by the mind of these deamons exercising the hate of corruption were there is no protection...be a fear of being a nobody go gotty lock lick new moo show ding dotty...take it out of thin air just to not be an able boddy, but part of the work force up above not seeing many bodies from being distracted by blinded eyes of clearwater stray far from the sight of truth we dont see the living truth, Were every evil is a hidden truth..just think about it..about it...about it...ramp and you rave, but clearly your deranged in this cycle miss we found typhoons of ill feelings...the true ones you hide each time you dying inside cuz we dont know truly who we are, but what some fantasy made quote of the day just said it...but didnt be said that faith without works is dead so were is the being made difference...stop and look in the mirror and is it truly your own beautiful self or just some empty made rot grave feeling,cold as dead black earth... [Hook] Cuz you can just sit in a slow hell shell and be smashed all the hell like Peter pumpkin eater had a wife and smashed her in a shell that couldnt keep her...or look up and let the light penetrate the darkness of pain...theres no gain unless you retain an bottle up..put a corck in it...and let the world be its own playground misfortunates [Verse 2] I must be subliminally blinded or just to warry minded an wrapped up that I cant see standing in an unmarked open grave and heat sweated stress only self slowed created mess...was never gonna return again and I just guess it was a test...fifth to tenth an uneducated guess hes a ripple ring carried incurable chest...barried and stuck on the day like it was only yesterday today be everyday stuck on a name,but its gone as yesterday ripped trampled tossed away only to leave the rest..they say only die with the best...on an empty wasted trash..like a sworen oath,dont think Im on here to double cross what I cant easily forget and its awful...a face full of shit cun cow dun doogle...endlessly searching for the lost puzzle its unreachable from an arm distanced reached table...a pass and a fumble, push shove dismantled they say is piss soured pork someone put on the cape and rescue me from endlessly drowning...as Lewis lane types the front page of thousand downers who stand frowning...cuz its knowing your beautiful inside, but cry behind Mr.jeckle and hyde as remembering Bonnie and Clyde showed nothing to hide...fear wasnt looking out from there eyes the day they died...but dont think for a second miss confused lyrics describe my insides its so transparent reluctantly reexamined...I know what time its...its just meaningless credit.. [Hook] Cuz you can just sit in a slow hell shell and be smashed all the hell like Peter pumpkin eater had a wife and smashed her in a shell that couldnt keep her...or look up and let the light penetrate the darkness of pain...theres no gain unless you retain an bottle up..put a corck in it...and let the world be its own playground misfortunates [Verse 3] Oh wait...the doc just said stop and reexaminate...how twisted are you really these are undisclosed feelings taken lightly just prescribe another pill..I bet you you will...thousand mg of this and a three tab of that come back and will chat you cant get off of that, like its your own personal get off renting sack...its misconsumption...how about you take it home and wear it for a week Ill see you in a week and well have the special pill then go through hell being a living truth your presence is an aftermath of a fallen hell...somebody get me out of the moment to seize the disownment before the explosion..a foot in open confusion the distortment..all I hear is static and empty wind blowing...everything here on can come as a blessing,but holes are still gaping the day that she played with it as all fun and games finally were up and the toy thrown in the box, just take it and leave it...but my stubbornness gained and self esteem went down the drain Im soaked mangled spattered pain, I should thank her...its the fuel and the match that one day will give way to its tarrony grave, but its sickening rotten through the gut spit venom and words never any severity it only rattles my nerve to the core and it drains me...physically emotionally exhausted I just want to stop it...never to get out a hand, just let my ill feelings give you a hand showing to beat the devil at holding a death card double...so its no mystery of trust issues Im haven...ill feelin is the only thing grabbing [Hook] Cuz you can just sit in a slow hell shell and be smashed all the hell like Peter pumpkin eater had a wife and smashed her in a shell that couldnt keep her...or look up and let the light penetrate the darkness of pain...theres no gain unless you retain an bottle up..put a corck in it...and let the world be its own playground misfortunates
smashed, corck, misfortunates, shell, hell