I Can't Fucking Write Books Because I Only Write Songs Now Lyrics

In transit i lay still

The windows bend and ceilings mock the seas faces move and their lips seem to stall

Progress moves as egos laugh

And i still live in this crevice of a home

And of course the most terrifying things aren't real but alas

My vision's Blocked by projections of demons under my bed

Help me redirect my will

Shadows are not scared of pills

I know now that words can kill

Rip the cords out of my throat

I'm sick of sounding like a joke

Hope I'm silenced, hope i choke

In transit i lay still sharp skin and syringes pierce my eyes i never was one to put up a Fight

Progress moves as voices amass and i could not care less for this piece of shit called Home

And of course they say

That only time can heal But i, Well i could have been dead by now

Last time i felt sharp was when it cut my wrists last time i lived was when i jumped ship

Thought i knew better than to let stones break my bones

But i guess I'm just dumb for leaving my limbs exposed if I stayed here for a day or two Do you think maybe then

These knives could get through?

Pray to whatever's in the sky for the courage to die

Dear god, why do i even try