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de Street Sects

Cash one last paycheck
Make one last purchase

I know you’re sorry
You’re always sorry

First, it’s your job
Then it’s your dreams
Next, it’s your teeth
You’re losing
Fucked all your friends
Exhausted your means
Not that you care what happens

Now you’ve burned all connections
Learned no real lesson

It’s mommy’s money
She’s always obliged to help you
Fuck up your life more
Smoke and relax, kid
Nothing bad happens to you

Close the blinds and lock the door
Turn the lights off and flick the wheel
Push the chore boy back and forth
Heat the stem until it hits
There’s always one more hit
Go ahead
Try it again

Why can’t you sleep
Why can’t you cum
Why won’t your mind stop racing
Check the front door
Someone’s outside
Why won’t your heart stop racing

How’d your belly get so big
Why are you covered in your own shit
Hammering nails through your fucking skull
I hope you like what’s coming

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