to much pressure gonna self exlode
the baggage keeps on pilen up
my future dangles from the end of a rope
no coat tails to sew on my coat

this is jsut a fame its just a game
good god above take me out now now
somebody help me now now now
lift me up to hand me the downs

the night life heres the worst its ever been
wheres my jar of glue to put away my brains
this old bodys been through the mill
my first memory was hate so take the blame

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