I feel like i spend all my time trying to paint burning houses always throwing myself into these hopeless causes Driving myself up crumbling walls and wasting all my paint
Now my world only spins in shades of monochromatic my colorless eyes looking oh so dramatic what i wouldnt give for a heart attack or severe fever just so i could feel something
Ive got a reckless tounge and a destination addiction speaking words i wish i felt in all these different positions just waiting for the flash flood to carry me somewhere new
But everywhere i go its just the same old **** the sun stares me down, i run happiness is not worth it so ill lock myself inside this half a home untill my sane abandons me then maybe I Can Sleep.