You will be sick for the rest of your life
The pain, I promise, will never go away
You're going to wake up over and over again,
and your bones will ache, and your heart won't beat right
There will be bends and snaps in your skin,
writing out all your life in third grade cursive
And your hands will get sore just by forming a fist
and you'll stare at the ceiling and only exist
And you will never get better,
you will always be sick
And we'll lay down forever and chew on our lips
Pictures turn to blurs, three dots dancing
Everything you hear, new lofi black metal EPs
It's Huey Lewis Syndrome, watching Moulin Rouge twice,
thinking the same two thoughts every fucking night
Staring out the window, hoping someone knocks at the screen
Scratch at the arm rest and pray for a disease
supported by 23 fans who also own “The World is a Marketable Place & I am No Longer Afraid to Sell”
Daily focus-training coupled with strong work ethics pointed toward making life more bearable for others, could turn around this age for the better. This album is beautiful. A force for good. CHOSEN