I've been trying to lie I've been telling myself that the pain that I felt at your hand wasn't real
I know that I'm broken the drugs are a joke, just a bandaid on top of a wound that won't heal
I'm cussing at cars as they're passing me by and they're flying, I'm dying, reminds me of you
Nothing of beauty that moves at that speed can be caught, it's for naught, it is just passing through.
But let me reflect, course-correct, recollect who I was before you took the parts that you swiped
Do I wanna be the same me that you see when you see me and think that I'm pro'lly your type?
Whatever it is and whatever it ain't, it's a taint on my memory of what it was
And I am resigned and inclined to define what is left, and what's left is some words and this buzz.