Spiritual Suicide

Acid washed denim, playlist a mix of Pac and Black Sabbath.

Baggie full of green shit, mind full of madness.

Lost count of how many straws I've been grasping at, semiauto asthmatic.

Gasp and stagger backwards, had some friends that were just backstabbing actors.

As soon as my chips were down, those bastards went and vanished.

What accolades did I acquiesce, what did I leave half-finished,

How much did I actually attempt half-assing at?

Who you laughing at?

I loosened my grip on those regrets.

I've spent plenty nights losing sleep with my t-shirts soaked in sweat.

What's coming next?

You best double check just who think you is if it's me you fucking with.

I'm done with this and that, these fairweather friends;

And who's to say when my sun sets and my season ends?

 

This ain't even do or die.

No, this is do or lose your entire life,

The only difference between this and simple death is that one is optional, the other inevitable.

Welcome to Spiritual Suicide.

 

Uh, Welcome to Spiritual Suicide.

Too many of these people giving me the screw face like they've been chewing limes.

Or maybe they've spent too much time in the bathroom doing lines.

It ain't my place to judge someone on how they choose to cope with life.

Word to the wise however, in order to help others don't make yourself the sacrifice.

I gave too much love to these curmudgeonous motherfuckers;

All I got back was acid, seems that they must've all been born with mouths full up with mustard.

For now, I'll keep pulling my punches, sticking to my guns;

Working my ass off and packing my lunches.

I'm attempting to align these chakras, but don't piss me off or,

Knock knock, the fucking dragon is coming.

I'm attacking these gaggles of chumps, I'm an unknown bastard handing out slashes and lumps.

If you're looking to get slaughtered and smashed, look no further, that's just a part of my craft.

Do what you can to better yourself and others, but don't become a target as well.

But if you manage to find yourself with that bullseye on your back leaving your marked as a mark,

Grip your soul tight and abandon your carcass in hell.

So what if they carve their markings into that vessel, oh well.

Just make it known you wouldn't consider putting a price on yourself, no sale.