| Oh lord, I’m having issues, more deep than American missiles | 
| Shooting commuter planes and filing emissions official | 
| I’ve hit depression hard and started to pick at the scabs | 
| From the scar, I’m a mess addressing pain in a bar, I confess | 
| Cause all the rest just mar shit, chest in a cast | 
| Feeling urges just to test out a casket, bless me I’m blasphemous | 
| Jesus pass the fifth, I… have to get lit | 
| Masochist self I’m only half of the health I was born with | 
| (Baby) Save me, take me up high like 'dro | 
| But way far past the stars and the sky | 
| I’m blinding pain like I’m a junkie shooting up with | 
| Emotional novacaine, I’m floating provoking the angels to jump me | 
| In layman’s terms, faith’s been blurred, even early | 
| I scratched crayon in between the holy word I pray on, but still | 
| (Baby) Three gone, and maybe I’m in barren land | 
| God help me, I’m having trouble with your master plan so | 
| (Take Me) the shadows of valleys of death, God | 
| (Take me) when I’m shooting, taking last breaths hard | 
| (Baby) I want to walk through the valleys praying lord | 
| Will you help me, save me God, won’t you tell me, tell me | 
| (Take me) Cause I’m losing my faith, bless me | 
| (Take me) Cause this world just wanna test me | 
| You see this dirty knife on the floor, this chrome nine in my hand | 
| These foul thoughts in my conscious, constantly understand | 
| See we taught to believe if you can touch it and see it, it must | 
| Be real so go believe it. | 
| But I’ve never seen Jesus | 
| I’ve never seen God, so he’s only a thesis | 
| And I’m questioning all these things in my time to depart | 
| I know it’s written suicide is giving hell and devils privilege | 
| Only wicked heathens commit it, sin of ages, well fuck it, bring it! | 
| Lately I’ve been waking early mornings screaming | 
| «Save me,» dreams of seven horsemen chasing Jean, hastening speed | 
| So I’m raising the barrel envisioning marrow | 
| Splashed on the wall and polka dotting all my apparel | 
| And maybe, Ginsu blades through skin will slay | 
| And split thin veins instead of loading clips that spray | 
| And if I’m meant to stay, then I’ll just pass through the gates | 
| And fall a long way back to Earth, so why don’t you just | 
| You can see the pain twist my face from a distance | 
| The body’s windows glistening red hot from all of the indo | 
| Thinking of my next of kinfolk, my mama | 
| Opening doors, crimson billows spread out on the pillows and floor | 
| I gotta block it out. | 
| I’m set on knocking out | 
| Lock and aim and I’m dropping my frame quick when I pop in the brain | 
| And if God’s omnipotent, will he slip in and change | 
| And move the pistol so it shoots out of range and the lead whistles? | 
| (Baby) Maybe he’s just playing; | 
| it’ll ricochet | 
| And cripple me strictly for questioning, give me life to the pain | 
| Sickle-shaped body bent in the middle | 
| So little kids who pass me harass me and giggle | 
| My figure’s itching to touch on the answers | 
| Hard-headed like exotic dancers' nipples | 
| Picturing the bullets ripping the skin on the mantle I’m holding | 
| Pull back and blow the wick right off the candle | 
| Throw a kiss until the world’s out of focus | 
| So now (take me) |