| I try not to give a fuck about the little things
|
| Yet still every particle of pressure
|
| Got my psyche circling the drain
|
| But shit I can’t complain
|
| Compared to many folks I got it great
|
| So, why’s it always seem
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| That everything was better yesterday
|
| Sure, I suppose that I could down another fifth
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| To help myself forget
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| Pocket the grenade and pull the pin
|
| But giving in is overrated
|
| And I’m sick of being faded
|
| And I’d like my epitaph to read
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| They made it
|
| So, we’ll have to
|
| Wipe the sweat from our brows
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| Tears from our eyes
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| Booze from our mouths
|
| I know shits going south
|
| But we got this
|
| Just as long as we don’t cave
|
| To the escape route
|
| Just chug along and everything will play out fine
|
| Or maybe it won’t
|
| Maybe we’re fucked
|
| Maybe we’re born to die
|
| And all shit out of luck
|
| Plus, it does feel a bit narcissistic
|
| To deny our existence
|
| Is an accident congealed from the dust
|
| How I’d love to find myself
|
| Some solace in some pollyannaish paradise
|
| And view the glass half full
|
| But it’s just so difficult
|
| To not fill every glass in sight with booze
|
| I’ve got so many self-inflicted bullet wounds
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| In both my feet
|
| That it’s a miracle I ever leave the bed
|
| To walk the streets
|
| When I do a wave of panic washes over me
|
| And shrivels up my lungs
|
| Can’t seem to act the way I’m supposed to be
|
| Without catching a buzz
|
| Meaning is tough to find when anchored to a drug
|
| So, I hold dear the hope
|
| With work one day I’ll live a life unplugged
|
| Or maybe it won’t
|
| Maybe we’re screwed
|
| Maybe we’re just arbitrary blips
|
| All born to lose
|
| Maybe searching for meaning hope
|
| To deny life is pointless
|
| And this consciousness shit’s all a ruse
|
| For every happy thought I’ve ever had
|
| There dwells a voice within my head
|
| That speaks to sabotage my comfort
|
| With an existential dread
|
| Oh, how nice it’d be to just enjoy one day
|
| Without the vacuum of anxiety to suck the fun away
|
| Like it’s a
|
| Gorgeous day outside
|
| Too bad that everyone I know will die
|
| It doesn’t matter what we leave behind
|
| We’re all standing in place
|
| Just launching arrows at the sky
|
| The finish line of this rat race
|
| Is just our imminent demise
|
| See what I mean? |