This place is dense. As I'm crawling over your protected fence.
I'm not holding in what needs to be said.
For crying out loud, your days have been spent,
On the phone spilling every truth about the life I live.

Maybe it's just me, and the way I think.
You should probably spend more time being less pathetic.

ROT, to the bone. Bn your six foot grave, soon to be called your home. Bury another name.
Now all thats left is smoke, in this four wall closet space.
I used to know that kid.
Now you're just another head case. Just another HEADCASSE

Most of my time spent wasted, in a vicious circle in a basement.
A step closer to hell and if you couldnt tell I cant relate, I can't relate it's...
Not me anymore, as I escape out the side door.
And with my luck, I'll be stuck forever.
I need to find a purpose, something tells me, this is worth it.