These thoughts can't be mine.
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but they're the only thoughts I have.
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In this city of imitation, dying to survive.
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and when night comes it's spent on.
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Getting drunk and taking drugs.
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or letting one thing be enough to love someone.
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But then by day I'm a stomach ache that won't go away.
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We set patterns that become our balance.
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Taking things in secret. Keeping ourselves clean.
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And we keep moving with these same mistakes.
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Rearranging chemicals in our brains.
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Nightmares of never remembering anything.
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'Til we're not around anymore.
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and there is this hum in our heads
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and we're exhausted again.
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Screaming sound that goes on and on and on and...
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like steady medication wearing out.
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The shit that we forget.
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Nothing ever happens. Nothing happens here.
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and nothing will ever happen. Nothing matters here.
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Why do we forget the things
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we thought we figured out?
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-----------------
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Black Out
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| Curl Up And Die |
