Somebody asked if they could get to know who I am,
So I answered her questions as a reliable man.
“So, what do you do to pass the time?”
-Sometimes I pretend to have a grip on my mind.

I got a secret I have to admit
I have an addiction, eternally sick
Instead of tyin a slipknot round the neck
I escape the pain through this shit I inject
I guess I'm just a disturbed method man
With heiroglyphics on the walls I don't understand
It says all shall perish without a fighting chance
Maybe we should rise against and take a stance

Rhythm of my ill mentality conflicting with my wasted personality that speaks of raw emotion towards my directed devotion for bloody fights and long nights just tryin to fuckin forget my embarrassment’s debt. So I simply think crazy shit that I really don’t wan’t to admit. But I’ll hint to what I mean and explain the hectic obscene. Sometimes I’m color blind to the tripped out visions I find.

I took a step back to rethink my past, slowed it down, never too fast, accept that whatever’s gone wrong has already passed and it doesn’t have to be what I think of last. I understand karma and her strict regulations, but she only brings me back stupid frustrations quietly laced in hopeless relations constantly testing my overused patience.