changes (pt. 2)

Made changes

(I know I've said I tried to heal, but I'm only gettin' sicker)

Ayy

Ball seven times a day

Cop a selfie with the orphan in the mirror display

And if you're home, could you say sorry to my dad for me?

I was such a sad kid

Bring your guillotine, lets rewind it like a bad dream

Such a crime, killed time, blood wine, I'm fine

Lost a year, of my life ayy

'Cause I'm Third Eye Blind

Feel like Abraham

Feel like comic sans

Over used for that paper by the gram

Feel like Abraham, ayy, ayy

Yes, I've been working and hurting and burping

Need, like, three sermons to get through the day

Allergic to lies, I'm always in hives

But, no, I don't need your epipen, I got my own

Slept over in my kitchen

The roaches ate my chicken

I flamed those little wings

Call it Kentucky-fried

Made Changes