Текст
Waiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here’s my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
Buried alive with my thoughts long ago
Suburban mausoleum I once called home
No doors and no windows allowed
Surviving on whispers and rumors for now
See all these places that I used to know
Withered and crumbling memories made of stone
What’s left but the deafening sound
Of emptiness filling the air all around
The stars I used to believe in
Nothing but satellites, uninspiring machines, deceived
Waiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here’s my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
Poorly written poetry, a worthless eulogy
With zero volunteers to carry me away
Too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
Always a sucker for heart wrenching hope
But somehow terrified that I’ll die alone
My fault not wanting to be found
Hide and seek champion, 3 decades down
Lack of attention, I’m starved to the bone
A self-inflicted, kind of tragic syndrome
Autopsy shows nothing resounds
In my head the echoes have all faded out
The stars I used to believe in
Nothing but satellites, uninspiring machines, deceived
Waiting for that final day I get the unmarked grave
So here’s my last reward for years of suffering
Too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
Poorly written poetry, a worthless eulogy
With zero volunteers to carry me away
Too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
I was always too blind to tell, I sank this fatal knife in myself
Bret Michael Liber, Josh Hurst, Michael McEvoy, Young Medicine
FIXT, Sentric Music