Lord Lazarus Lyrics

Writhing for so long forgot that I was living

Forgot that I was breathing

I'm merely existing

I think therefore I am but all I'm good for is thinking

And all that time left in my mind just made me pompous and distant

Self important, sordid and so pretentious

Hate the fact that I took the pain and learned how to express it

I lost the will to kill myself, I'm stuck with depression

Under all this self-improvement lives so much resentment

There's a fine line between achievement and bereavement

And who's to tell the difference if you die before you see it

Sacrifice humanity, thought I already lost it

Right bottom is death and I approach it way too often

Encroaching all my state of peace, all my regrets

Suddenly, all the progress was made up in my head

A way to cope with a future or current stress

Trauma's no longer an inflection point, just an event

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?

My body parts are wrong, should I just ignore it?

Is it concerning that I started scourging?

Well, I deserve it, so it's not important

It's all a distraction, that's why I keep engorging

I'm pricking thorns while I pick the most gorgeous orchid

And once I find it, I burn the rest of the forest

Used to be suicidal, now I'm dying from boredom

It's been three weeks since my last infliction

Conflicting with my wish to be less pessimistic

Quite bluntly is mental illness, I've been afflicted

Life is hollow

I almost miss being a Christian

My self-awareness is a double-edge

I see genuine growth, but I'm still unimpressed

Now I'm regressing, my values shifting, my brain is splitting, shit

It's been three weeks since I last inflicted

Every single moan and coo's a eucophony

A parting of red seas, a blade with a prophecy

It's spade digging holes, a painful monotony

My heart is a stone, making gold my philosophy

This space is an oddity where my pain's an economy

If I drop cold, quiet, could I savor the quality of a moment of peace?

A release from myself

A release from the world

Self-sabotage ecology

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric?

My body parts are wrong, should I just ignore it?

Is it concerning that I started scourging?

Well, I deserve it, so it's not important

It's all a distraction, that's why I keep engorging

I'm pricking thorns while I pick the most gorgeous orchid

And once I find it, I burn the rest of the forest

Used to be suicidal, now I'm dying from boredom

Writhing for so long, forgot that I was living

Forgot that I was breathing, I'm merely persisting

I think therefore I am

But if I find a way to cope that stops all of my thinking, I'd be happy just subsisting

Several substances and toxic optimism

Better than serrated edges, cause I'm thinking about my past again

Self-hate is hazardous

Death rarely glamorous

Kill myself and come back

Lord Lazarus

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric

Is it pretentious to be this dysphoric