Lyrics Apocalypse - Brye

Apocalypse

You say you hate me?
Well I bet I hate myself more
Your comments don’t phase me
And death threats aren’t my worst problem anymore
The thoughts subside
I’m able to push through for one night more
But suicide is creeping up on my back door
I’m able to ignore it at first
Until I just can’t anymore
This feels like bad karma
Or a curse sent straight to my core
I soaked the floorboards, they’re rotting
Can’t stand the smell anymore
I’m making out with death
Every day I’m isolated
Is another baby step
To full on seduction
The way my walls cave in
Would make you think this house is haunted
And the toothpaste stains on my shirt
Would make you think that I had brushed them
My teenage years are meaningless
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse
And I can’t go outside
Without thinking I could die
My formative years are wasted
Even if the president won’t face it
And the end keeps creeping closer, I can taste it
I’ve been fighting illness
Since I was about eight years old
But it’s not physical, baby
It’s one hundred percent mental, ahh
Sometimes I think I would rather catch the virus itself
Than leave my emotional health to rot on the shelf
I’m making out with death
Every day I’m isolated
Is another baby step
To full on seduction
The way my walls cave in
Would make you think this house is haunted
And the toothpaste stains on my shirt
Would make you think that I had brushed them
My teenage years are meaningless
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse
And I can’t go outside
Without thinking I could die
My formative years are wasted
Even if the president won’t face it
And the end keeps creeping closer, I can taste it
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (I'm making out with death)
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
(Every day I’m isolated)
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (Is another baby step)
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
(To full on seduction)
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (The way my walls cave in)
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
(Would make you think this house is
haunted)
My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (And the toothpaste stains on my shirt)
But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?
(Would make you think that I had
brushed them)
My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (I'm
making out with death)
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,
would I feel a thing?) (Every day I’m isolated)
My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (Is
another baby step)
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,
would I feel a thing?) (To full on seduction)
My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (The way
my walls cave in)
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,
would I feel a thing?) (Would make you think this house is haunted)
My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (And the
toothpaste stains on my shirt)
For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead) (Would
make you think that I had-)