Talking To Myself Lyrics

I'm sick of life

But They won't listen

To my guys

We wasting time

But I don't feel it

Should I die

But Angels silent

So is Krystal

So is Fulham

Suicidal

I'll just bill it

Apple fritters

Lemme kill it

Then i'll do it

Then i'll do it

I'm sick of

Everyone in your life knows you from drugs

So if you're not useful why would they give a fuck?

How the fuck you tryna find a single atom in the dust

You should move like a dick and let blood vessels bust

Relapsed again? Retarded little fuck

In fact, you deserve that for trusting the little Cunt

Show me your fucking arm, go on show me how it's done

You make me hate humans and their silly little thoughts

Oi useless

Listen you little cunt

It's time to get drunk don't you dare sober up

You don't even like drink but its fucking bottles up

Listen the voddy and morgans swim inside your guts

Lips burn faces squirm but you're not fucking done

No one gives a fuck if your liver hurling up stuffs

Vision twelve F P S so you know the time

Don't need shoes or gloves let's drive

Sixty miles from the end, road slippery from ice

Don't usually speed, doing one fourty in the night

Go Dissociate your Neurodivergent mind

Before your body splits into sections of three

Times three into sections of nine

Don't waste your time there's no point to reply

Do not disturb is your best friend for the night

People will finally see what's inside your mind

You're sick of being sick you can't take this anymore

Put the pedal on the metal, put the pedal to the floor

Forty miles from the end imagine the scene

When the police turn up and they're billing your weed

And your family turn up and they smiling with glee

And they glad you're deceased with

Your bloods on the streets and

Your soul is missing and

Your hearts in a tree

Minimum wage to clean up your mess

Let's end my show before this episode starts

Why didn't you? This show has too many parts

Pitch black let's turn off your high beams

No one needs to know that you are speeding in the dark

The whip isn't yours and you lied to their face

It's calm they'll get it back on insurance claims

Everyone thinks your insane anyway

What difference will it make when you end up in a grave

Thirty miles from the end and your eyes feel heavy

Time for bevvy

We stop when you stop

This tank is full of petty

This tank full of pe-

Suicidal

I'll just bill it

Apple fritters

Lemme kill it

Then I'll do it

Then I'll do it