Die Too

Sometimes, you try to write some lyrics, other times you just suffer through it, holding broken glass and swallowing just to hope that you can chew it. You spit it out, no shit, there's blood in your mouth, unless you like the taste I suggest you follow my sound. I'm the type that will momentarily smile and then cut you to pieces in a Michael Myers style. I'm sorry that I'm so psychotic but what the fuck am I supposed to do but face the trial, the judge is a bitch, the jury's in denial, yeah unfortunately (fortunately) they died too. Who knew the jury was hung before the verdict was done. You said guilty, I say you're fucking filthy, why don't you look inside yourself and tell me something that doesn't, kill me? Let me remind you of the demons that live inside of me. A few of them I've murdered, psychologically, killing individually but the particles of the insanity inside of me remain, who gives a fuck though, I'm still smiling while you're dialing a dead phone line for some trust.

You're the one tied to the chair, yeah, you're gonna die too, but I'll take my time with you, it's something that I do, the shuddering and suffering is hilarious to me so cry too. You fucked with me or my family? That's a death sentence, you better hope the po find you, it doesn't really matter because I'll probably skin those abusive pigs too, but you, I'mma take it slow, and I'm going to make sure I remind you of all the pain you put them through everyone and every life you destroyed that still lives inside your memory as if you're worth a moment of a thought that will blind truth, at least my fingers will blind you. Every single one of you will suffer, slowly, eventually you'll die too, but that's just an after thought the pain is more what I do. Smiling every single time you spill the blood inside you.

It's too late, you say you're sorry, motherfucker, I cried too. What did you say then? You said shut the fuck up, grow up, be a man, well look at me now, nothing but a psycho with a knife in one hand and a torch in the other, cutting all the memories and burning them with what holds the fire. You forgot one thing, you didn't kill me, now I know who you are and I know what I'll do when I find you. I'll only repay the debts you never thought would have to pay, they're long past due, what? You thought I would forget too? I remember all the lies, made up stories, repetition, bleeding noses and my childhood ending at about the age of nine, maybe I should've pushed the knife through but I was young and fucking dumb and now you're just another church going christian who thought that they were saved too. Safety? I'll safely crucify you, hammer in the nails, I'm sure there's some Roman blood in mine too. You say sorry, hahaha, now I've got you're tongue too, what are you saying now? "Blahdidababaababa wa wa wa why you?" Why me?" You should know the story, you were a sick sadistik fuck before you re-wrote my memory and I will make sure the ending isn't boring, you'll be the climax with a bleeding throat and glory, crying for forgiveness just another human being left in the graveyard permanently snoring, getting eaten by the worms because they're the only ones that know you. I highly doubt that though, they'll probably never find you. This has gone so far I don't even know who I'm writing this to, all I know is that I have a murder in my eyes like crows that never find truth and just like them I'll wait and take the time too. I'll be the lion, the hunter, the knife, the gun, the fire, the loose plug thrown in the bathtub, the whatever is fun and I'll laugh hysterically because therapy never worked for me, the only thing that makes me smile is the cry of agony and everlasting ending, interestingly enough, this is just the beginning. I'm focused on the hunt and with no other thought, I can't see through the final plot, I assume that in the end I'll die too but good fucking luck I can't even count by now the numbers of fucks that have tried to stop me breathing and they weren't left screaming just silently beside you while I stood smiling at the last twitch of their face move.

Smile, this is not really me, it's you, it's just something inside you, it's a thought you have, too bad the dreams I have always fucking come true. Karma is a bitch but there's nothing worse than someone who accelerates towards the wall it's heading to, life is just an after thought, a beauty that will blind you and this is just a poem so my life and my words taken seriously is something you should give up to me because I'm just writing rhymes like every other fucking "lyricist" tries to do. I'm nothing but a cynical sarcastic ball of plastic truth wrapped in a reality that I don't want to fucking find too and yeah, I'm basically an asshole too, at least I can be honest about what I am, seeing all the worlds color in hues of blue and hoping there's something more inside of you than the lies I see inside of you. Hypocritical fuck I am, I've lied more than you do and I've bled enough and tried to die enough that it's become something boring, just another thing to do. No fucking point when there's so much left to live through. Time to climb the mountains, buildings, airplanes, anything way too high and see if I can fly too.