| Sunken and swollen, left to sink in bed
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| Numb to all the pain and shame
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| Procrastinate every thought every breath
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| Zombieland playground is what you have earned till death
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| Lost in space where depression fails to grab hold
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| Dull, dim-witted, slurred drivel to behold
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| Dazed, confused, you are checked out
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| Forgot what the stress was about
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| Lazy and crooked doctors give in to
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| Your pathetic cries of forfeit
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| Built-in ready excuses
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| It was subscribed to, I’m not going to die today
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| Oblivious to any criticism
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| Legal and ordered to consume
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| Given up for all accounts
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| Deadly brew of pills, I deny
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| Self-subscribing, pain or mental?
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| Extra ground up in how many bumps?
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| Closest thing to rapture enjoy
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| Ignore disgrace, it’s non-existent
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| Lonely place of degradation, misery likes company
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| Tell their story to each other, their modified history
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| Junkie birds of a feather, new lies weave easily
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| So proud of the victim status, share the pain and believe
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| Sum of the day’s score is how content you’re meant to be
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| Hiding in your dungeon, gloomy place of depravity
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| Sickly and contagious, aura of negativity
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| You’re drenched in the squalor, state of degeneracy
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| Baffled by being avoided, family and friends look for the exits
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| In denial of excessive self-loathing, looking for pity and any will do
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| Trying to force people to sympathize, putting on the show of your misfortune
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| No one wants to hear about your decline, or wants to watch your self-destruction
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| Reveling in the abyss, the vacant stare, almost unconscious
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| Forget about all the shit that’s piled high
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| Hoard the stuff that’s not enough, then the trash is adding up
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| Preying on others' understanding, single out who will empathize
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| Betray the trust of dispersed pity
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| Squander any currency you think you’re entitled to receive
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| Pessimist till the end, Debbie-Downer is not your friend
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| Manipulation to the highest degree
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| Lies you tell are eventual truth
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| Piece of shit you don’t even fucking know it
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| Forsaken and marooned
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| Time is running short on feeling sorry for yourself
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| Your body’s failing not made for the insalubrious
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| Your weakened state, the result of neglect
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| The toll you have taken from self-medication
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| Sleeping in garbage, and effectively abandoned
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| Fuming alone about everyone’s callousness
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| You are the trash that others have taken out
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| Removed the burden, that’s had them weighed down |