Counting numbers as I paint, seeking blessings from blood stains,
dances with wolves in the rain, joined another cult just to love again.
I know what you're thinking, what in the hell is this guy dreaming?
If you could read what I'm seeing, you'd understand why I'm screaming.
Believe in sanity because once it's gone ... all your truths dissolve,
and there's no problem even your drug spun mom can help you solve.
I wish I could talk to God the way meth speaks through fiends
because they may seem off but at least they're consumed with glee.
Televised radio static creates bad habits, like writing tragic myths,
I used to practice all kinds of magic but then I dropped acid... shit.
I had a friend once, but then the cunt jumped ship to swim with sharks,
and I never looked back, just laugh and continue to pretend it didn't scar.
Tell me again, where did you learn to be such a piece of work?
I knew you lied a lot but I tried to not accept the feces you slurred.
I guess my weakness was trusting a heathen, trust me, your demons prevail,
because I've seen your internal kingdom and the walls are depleting cells.