The Wrong Sense

Some things one just can't accept out of my mind

I just can't get this off my chest

I've been walking a fine line between this life and death

'Cause it isn't enough for me

I wanna rest with the fucking obsession seething

I'm infected but the rest don't see me in a better perception

I wonder if I'll ever be worth the remembrance

Our remnants of memories fade away

I look around and wonder if I'll ever manage to say

That we have always portrayed a sense of elation

Just to be a withering case of loss and frustrations

Riddled with a splintering hate for all that we've made

I just wanna take out my gun and pick out my grave

I feel like I'm the conflict and the resolution is a coffin

So I just might choose this as I

Poison my blood and blackout my lungs

I'm used to always feeling disgust, it's love and it's lust

For everything that seeps into cuts and fractures me numb

It never ends up being enough

It's never enough to ease the fucking stress

Over the things that'll lead me to my end

There's a handful of songs about death stuck in my head

And I'll sing 'em on repeat for wrongs I've caused

This dread is a head full of hatred for everybody

I'll cut out the insides to fill the void with sin

So the knife doesn't deal me to loneliness and senseless involvement

In your devolving personal agenda

The culprit is the compulsion

Lesser known to those of good fortunes

Life is abortion

Can't you tell the temptation forces us to ignore

This imminent destruction

That we've misconstrued as an abundance of the tried and true?

Tell me, is this all that's worth it?

Everything warping, trenching through the marshes and corpses

Sinking the warships, tearing out the roots from the sources

Crushing the courses

Humbly, the parasites dormant rose to the surface

Only to combust with all these grievances and all my shortfalls

I'll cut out the insides to fill the void with sin