Teen mom, Photo bomb
Blood rights, ***** fights

-- I watch from below as She
Gurgles down the words --

Plastic fairy, No dairy
*** scandal, School vandal

Magazine cover
Take cover:
Bullet babies
greased
in chrysanthemum
powder

--
c

I'm so down to earth I’m 6 feet under
Here the sounds of silent thunder sing me to sleep
The torn clothes, never worn, keep me warm
Like a baby in a laundry basket full of rags
Tags ripped off
What a waste of money how much did it cost
It took too long to realize I was lost and I am now one with the dirt
Stains on my shirt
I dream of my legs going somewhere important
My lungs are a meter stick and my breath is a child too small to ride
It just doesn’t reach
Teach the kid to stretch I’ll smile from my state of rest
Keep drinking your milk kid
Maybe you won’t be the man too short to live
Powerful enough to break a strawberries heart
A rollercoaster is a good start it teaches you how things will be
Unless your me, just lay still on the ground
Hear the ringing sounds but don’t analyze what it means
Because behind the scenes of these stained glass windows
Is the 2018 year-round gun show
The bullet missed my smile by a mile but it must have hit a parallel universe because once again I am one with the dirt
The elements sing me to sleep
Quick wit lies, open eyes keep me alive
And when the shovel comes I won’t be ready to leave
I've faked my death for a quarter lifetime of peace
I decompose piece by piece
I'm so unbreakably sane that death hit every ***** but forgot about my brain
Meaning I'm no longer in pain but I can think about what it feels like
From now on I’ll stay high as a kite
But the oxygen diminishing dirt wont let my geeb light
As sober as a drunk man that lost his liver then found god
From now on I’ll be high on death
Until the lower mantle steals my last breath