1. |
Problems
01:39
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One cannot measure the immensity of fuck I do not give
to your self-indulgent, self-made, proto-problems.
Where is the measure of the hours that we're in it?
I'd blow my fucking brains out, after only 20 minutes.
Go ahead and talk my ear off, as the hours pass on by,
As I nod my head, intent my eyes, while you self-aggrandize.
Feigning all sincerity to your false tales of adversity.
No director, or film crew, could make an interesting you.
Picking blood and scabs off of bruised knuckles and face
Feel like nothing could take these vices out of place.
Anger and abuse are tearing away everyone I adore.
Financial burden, these debt woes, throw me straight onto the floor.
My best friend's strung out on heroin,
He just robbed my house and the neighbor down the street.
Don't tell me about your bad week.
"Problems": One word you don't know a thing about.
When was the last time you lost an irreplaceable friend
To drugs, crime, or suicide
Choking on life, like you've got the bends.
So, be a man, dry your eyes.
You have no excuse to cry
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2. |
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Not to be a downer, but I'm sick of waking up alone.
Where is the button, the one that I can press?
A button, bottle, trigger; all the same, more or less.
Where can I find hope, in times of distress?
Holding hands with shadows isn't fucking cutting it.
I swear I'm snuffing it.
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3. |
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I wanna shut it out, shut it all out.
Every sickening sense of being.
The grazing pin-prick bursts of feeling.
I wanna shut it out.
I wanna be solitary, destitute, taking comfort in silence.
Leaving my empathy far behind.
I wanna feel nothing
The way you do.
It all strips away every protective layer
I'm pushing for disaster, my patience disintegrates.
My friends are all fucking worthless,
a band of misanthropes and ingrates
I rot away...
...at a job that's fucking killing me,
Slowly becoming them.
It's all I can see.
For now, what I'll do is fester and stew
As the patience inside fills to the brim
Now I'm wishing for nothing.
I wanna feel nothing.
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4. |
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The walls are tumbling down
Proverbial structure to the ground.
Iron-cast?
My support, composed of glass.
Hairline cracks, grown into shards
Lacking any sense of who you are.
Pouring sweat and tears?
Hit the ground twice as hard.
You're not your home, your job, your car
Your financial struggle, insofar.
In the end,
Nothing to lose.
Insecurities eat away, attack
At any positive feeling left intact.
My sense of self diluted
To a monotonous, moaning tone
In the end, we die broke and alone.
My life in short:
Mind-numbing aggravation
Crunching numbers, calculation
For a large, starting-pay position
"But, it's an achievement, a braggable goal"
This framed piece of paper?
Is that so?
Who will admire your exploits
When you've burned your bridges?
I've wasted everything on nothing.
Nothing justifies the time
and friends I've lost.
This migraine...
Razorblades
To the soft-mass of my brain
Analogous to the emptiness
I feel in place of pain.
This testament, I try to convey
On empty ears it falls
Wasting away.
Nothing justifies
The time and friends I've lost.
I've wasted everything on nothing.
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Sharks Never Sleep Michigan
A few jerks from Metro-Detroit, playing midwest punk, with subtle hints of pop.
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