Why do I feel like I'm always
gonna get it right next time,
when every time I open my eyes
I repeat the same shit that makes
me lose at everything I do.
Every time I try to do good
I'm made a fool,
a ing cesspool of lies,
but in my head I think they're true.
I think it's time I clear my mind,
and fess up for everytime I've lied.
But not tonight, theres not enough time.
I'd rather just get high and write down
all the times I've been this low,
and all the shit I've put you through.
You'll never know
I'm a selfish imbecile.
You don't love me,
you love what I say to you.
I ing hate myself,
I hate my friends.
I hate my job, I hate everything but you.
I ing hate myself,
I hate my friends.
I hate my job, I hate everything but you.
This is why I can not tell you what you deserve to know.
If you leave I swear I'll end it all right here.
Do you really want me to?
I just don't know what the else I should do.