the closest i've ever gotten to home
are the nights i stay up too late
trying to hack into the twilight zone
but only end up ******* fate
and maybe i play too much with death
but it's been three days since i last slept
and it seems like blowing my brains out is the only way i'll get any rest
because nights like these the rooms stare moving
and i swear to god the walls are talking to me
and they're screaming back everything i've ever told them
and spewing out the memories they hold
but what the ****, i trusted them so much, you know?
and this is what i get?
and oh my god the ceiling's bleeding
my hands are bleeding
there's blood everywhere
and i can't remember whose it is