Artists like us
Have a rare form of narcissism
In which
We think we are ****
But we want others to see our ****
And enjoy it
And when they do.
It's intoxication
To much wine
On an empty stomach
Fade to black
Growing up
My uncle had this big black
Junkyard dog
And the dog had a bear
And i was 5
And i didnt really want the bear
But next thing i knew
It was craddled to my chest
And the dog stratched
to get it back
It left a deep red reminder on my arm
And i hid it from my mom
So she wouldent know i took the dog's bear
I still have a scar there.
But look
what im saying is,
Though this is into the void
And you will never hear it,
I'm sorry.
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
Artists like us
Have a rare form of narcissism
In which
We think we are ****
But we want others to see our ****
And enjoy it
And when they do.
It's intoxication
To much wine
On an empty stomach
Fade to black
Growing up
My uncle had this big black
Junkyard dog
And the dog had a bear
And i was 5
And i didnt really want the bear
But next thing i knew
It was craddled to my chest
And the dog stratched
to get it back
It left a deep red reminder on my arm
And i hid it from my mom
So she wouldent know i took the dog's bear
I still have a scar there.
But look
what im saying is,
Though this is into the void
And you will never hear it,
I'm sorry.
