You are stuck here, trapped within,

This is a lost game, you’ll never win.

There are few things that get you heard,

And most of them are outlandish and absurd.

Things never stay easy and fine,

Just when you think you’re ahead, you run out of time.

Start with run and finish with drag,

The single place you’ll make it to is a body bag.

Your mind sleeps on a bed of thorns,

Your blood drips straight down to the Layer of Skorm.

The antiquated path is upon you, can’t you see,

Your soul is dripping through the pores of your reality.

Life offers no real destination to go,

What happiness is you’ll never know.

All of life’s colors fade to dark,

Before you know it, you’ve become a narc.

The needle plunges ever-so-deep into your vein,

Procrastinating who you want to become, making you go insane.

And as you remember who you once were you get sadder and sadder,

You realize that you’ve destroyed every piece of you that mattered.

Look in the mirror and see what you’ve become,

I think it’s finally time to pull the trigger to your gun.