Catching

(álbum: B-Sides & Rarities Vol.5 [2011-2016] - 2016)

Mama ain't raise no punk
I drew my escape that I traced out in blood
Then I made my escape through the breakable ducts
Whilst simultaneously taking a dump
Craving for love
I let out a shout that is equal parts painful and angry as fuck
Life ain't what you make it
Life's what you get
So you take it or duck
But evading is tough, yo
You gon' catch a b-b-b-b-body
Fucking with nobody
The persistence of memory catching up like Dali
Why I'm often found contorted on the sofa in the lobby
And I'm prolly haunted by my own accomplishments discarded
From the pile that was a positive, but now I view as folly
Just a product of suppository copies
Sloppy xerox duplications replicating melancholy
Scan my debit card, self-servicing in rugged clothes
Stuffing self with edibles, try plugging up the bucket holes
Another jigsaw puzzle, man I suck at those
The key is nowhere to be found when both your eyes are fucking closed
Shit, and why would I open them?
Sit inside my sarcophagus, I keep crying and hoping and
Hoping
That I survive and set aside my eroding whim
To decry my anxieties
"Why not try and just cope with them?"
Woah, hold up, easier said than done
Feeding on fantasies, I am feeling insanely dumb
Free me of bandages
And expose the recovered skin
Free what I hold within
And see what I can become
I'm taking off my bandages then