Malpracticioner

Could I afford the air, I could be all good now

Should I pretend to care, I could be all good now

Pave me under the streets

Show me the worst it can always be

Marcescent gloom from the time of bloom

Dead quiet in a crowded room

The "closer to god," the further from truth

A funny way to play pretend

Malpracticion

I should be so used to pain that I never feel a thing

Take the worst to make it first; Are we even existing?

Tired of trying, I've fried my soul

Tired of fighting, I'm getting too old

Too comfy in this earthly tomb

The older we get, the more we misuse

An adorable way to paint the end

Malpracticion