lyrics
Smells like cow shit
and hot pavement on the streets.
I'm tired of bullshit--
I'm not giving in to weaknesses,
but brother,
I'm tired, I'm broken,
I'm feeling no hope and
I think I just might
give up.
I've never spent a summer
outside my parents' basement,
where it's cool all the time
whereas now I have to face it--
and I just can't sleep.
The heat is keeping me awake at night,
and I can't face it right,
can't take it right
now, make it.
'Cause brother,
I'm tired, I'm broken,
I'm feeling no hope and
I think I just might
give up.
And there's this heaviness,
and I feel it in my bones.
There's a hell in this--
a god in this?--
temple of my flesh that sits
too heavy to sustain.
And it gives me
pain to admit
that I can't really feel it--
day to day,
goes away,
comes again,
goes away,
comes again,
and it just ain't pain.
Just a heaviness.
At the end of this,
will I get any better?
Will I understand why
I never got any better?
Good god, why am I here
in the first place--
this is the worst place I could imagine.
This ain't the worst place--
I should be laughing.
I'm just a lame ass
middle class
white kid with issues.
("Should you go to the doctor?
Should I get you some tissues?")
No, brother--my issues are fictitious.
My healing is improbable,
my problems are unsolvable
because they don't exist at all.
Oh brother.
What am I?
These are a stencil of a problem.
Imaginary numbers--you can't solve them.
My sins, you can't absolve them.
My issues you can't take
upon your back (they're make
believe, brother, they're fake).
I still feel them though.
Only, brother,
I'm tired, I'm broken,
I'm feeling no hope and
I think I just might
give up.
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