I know I need some help
But this, this feels like hell
Three years to go and not much left to spend
I know I
whine a lot
But this something I've not got
Is whispering in my ear, "it is the end, it is the end..."
You are so naive
Waking in your sleep
Blaming this on me
Well fuck you it's your problem now
Don't blame
society
For inherent insanity
Oh I hope it hurts
When I butcher all your delicate faces
Full of pretend rage
Writhing in this place
Two days to go until my empty victory
I need something to do
Far
away from you
Far away from all these hollow childish stories
You are so naive
Talking in your sleep
Blaming this on me
Well fuck you it's your problem now
Please blame
propriety
For my obvious sanity
Oh I hope it burns
When I douse all your faces with flame
