You say the rate i'm going
I'll be laying in an early grave
But to bed and left to rest
with no accomplishments to my name
You say i better learn from my mistakes
It's now or never to behave
My mind is breaking
My insecurities are looming
Bringing me down way lower then i already am
A ****** ****** loser
Generation Why
A ******* child of Nixon's drunks
Born without talents or interests passed down upon
INternet and social networking the hell with it


The needle tears a hole
And the hole never heals
Because its always always scratched
Never given time to let the wound scab
And now their are scars on my arms
Like tracks on the farm

My mother she once said you better learn it right
Or the bad habits you'll take to your grave
I went away to rehab
and now i'm still not right