I write to ease my pain.
Ink flowing, not my blood.
It does not feel as good.
Imagine, what if it did?

I like chips
But not for the reason you think
Chips are our thing
And i miss them

The ghosts are depressed
Because their desires were suppressed
The angels are weeping
Because the human race is sleeping
The poets are suffering
Because the meaning of life is puzzling.
God is smiling
Because we are surviving.

I can  see it, I could warn you but I know you wont listen
you will end up hurt
you will end up worst
you will love me, you will hate me

I can see it now, you'll love to hate me
you will hold on because you don't know any better
you will want to fix me
you will think I need fixing
why can’t you see it?

Go to hell??
It's really nice this time o' day
Would you follow me?
Don't think so...

I can go down there
And return in one piece
And learn new tricks to always win

Going to hell
Once again
It doesn't hurt anymore