Anxiety

(album: Blackheart Boulevard - 2018)

Every single day it breaks me to pieces
I've tasted defeat at the feet of my demons
I'm such a fucking waste of achievement
I should put this trigger to my brain and just squeeze it
'Cause Lord I know I ain't been no saint
But tell me what I did to deserve this pain
Tell me what I did to deserve this hurt
When all I ever did was put everybody first
(And how does that make you feel?)

These days I just don't feel shit
I don't feel a thing at all
I don't feel like I exist
That's why I need my fix
So I can just feel something
How do you describe the word empty
Try to describe the word nothing
Wait, fuck that
Use my name as a definition
Write it on my forehead
Defective out of commission
I'm sick of it, losing my self
I'm sick of it, take my fingerprints
You'll see how little the percentage is

I've given it my all
I've given it my all and so much more
But everybody still walking out that door
I've given it my all
It's getting to the point where it's sad as fuck
I've given it my all but it's not enough
It's not enough

The sleeping pills don't work
The healing pills don't work
I still feel pain with pain pills
Now those same pills don't work
If I don't get a couple perks
I'm about to go berserk
I swear to god nobody can fix this shit
Not even the church
Now tell me what good would a pastor do
Except be mad at you
And tell you that you've sinned a bunch of times
But I've forgiven you
You know they won't admit it
And god himself has forbid it
But it's probably still just half
Of all the shit the priest committed
(And how does that make you feel?)

Ask me one more time how the fuck I feel
Imma fucking lose my mind
Step aside I need the pills
Step aside I need the Xanies
Step aside I need the Vicodin
And I'll be on my way
So I can just get back my life again
You do not give a shit
Stop pretending, stop lying
'Cause to you I'm just a check, bitch
Just a dollar sign
Another vaycay with the kids
Hubby couldn't be prouder
And all you had to do was ask me
How I feel for an hour

See that's the problem with pretentious technicalities
You preach insanity and then expect my weekly salary
So tell me whose the crazy person now bitch
And yet you think you're qualified to treat me (shit)

I've given it my all
I've given it my all and so much more
But everybody still walking out that door
I've given it my all
It's getting to the point where it's sad as fuck
I've given it my all but it's not enough
It's not enough

Man I came up a long way
Just a young jozi nigga
Bullet at my temple
Afraid I might pull this trigger
It's fucking anxiety
Fucking anxiety
My demons are calling and saying
That they want whatever's inside of me
Imma give it to 'em
Imma give them all of it
Used to be a smooth operator
Now it's the opposite
Anxiety
Oh big-time anxiety, yeah
I feel it swimming through my veins
I'm afraid I might get the blade
And make a slit and let the blood spill out
Anxiety
Oh big-time anxiety