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Circus of Dead Squirrels
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Force Feed
I believe that a horrible death
Will compensate for my wasted breaths
I have sinned beyond forgiveness
My pathetic excuse for this damaged mind
I am an infected slut
Half-human, half-American mutt
My mind is fried from a massive intake
Of psychoactive drugs
Looking back, I admit it was fun
But I can't believe how fucking stupid I was
Everything I dreamed could now be a miracle
Everything I think cannot be conveyed
I have forsaken everything that is sacred to me
Meltdown
My crispy little soul
I'm incapable of feeling love
And happiness and all that good shit
I'm obsessed with death, pain, and porn
The ugliness that makes me horseshit
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Nothing personal, I just don't know myself
Or what the fuck I've become
Nothing personal, I'm just fucked up
I'm on a soul-searching powertrip now
Oh, chaos conquered my brain
Force-feed me with silence
Shove hope down my throat
Oh, what's left after going insane
Wash this watercolor portrait of me
Nothing personal, I fucking hate you
Don't think you're special
'Cause I fucking hate everyone
Nothing personal, I fucking hate you
Don't fuckin' sit there
Put a bullet through my goddamn head
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