Decent into Death
• Written by JynxedOne
Grew up innocent, no baggage on my mind
Feels like now I'm of a different kind
I'm realizing now the unforgiving truth
Now that I'm sitting alone in my minds booth
Life doesn't give a fuck about you at all
No answers to questions, no answer to calls
It's all a rat race and material's the cheese
A horrid disease that'll bring us to our knees
"Wait, nuh-uh, that can't be true"
Well next time you're sitting in a queue
Remember this hint, remember this clue
Maybe, just maybe, it's your mind's glue
Holding you together, keeping you sane
Drinking champagne, sniffing cocaine
Things to distract you from mental pain
Keeping you from blasting a shot through your brain
Might as well set up, unplug the drain
Open up a channel for the red rain
Without something to focus on, we fall short
We look for a rush, something to snort
Well listen for the gunshot, hear the report
The reaper's coming and he doesn't want a retort
He's tried of excuses, and prayers for life
He know's what bliss is, a lack of strife
He know's where its found, the afterlife
Lackluster is the release, dull like a knife
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About the Artist
JynxedOne
Member since December 8 2016