1991

Take a sip from the cup of piping hot procrastination

That’s another sleepless night from all my sleep hallucinations

Point my finger at the cause

Mom hates Dad and Dad hates Mom

But they did pretty well to salvage something broken since the year of '91

A different home every year creates an oddly scattered head

Filled with unproductive thoughts that pair with existential dread

I am in desperate need of therapy but cannot pay the bills

How do you put a price on mental health whilst everybody’s burning

I'll rest with this in my guts

As I'm forced through the incinerator

It's cold, it's calculated

And it won't stop 'til I'm obliterated

Two years ago you came to visit my completely empty home

We built a tree out of the cardboard that we found out on the streets

We spent our Christmas at the dollar store and you cried a lot that morning

Said you hated this whole situation right as Mom was calling

I'll rest with this in my guts

As I'm forced through the incinerator

It's cold, it's calculated

And it won’t stop 'til I'm obliterated

I wasn't an easy child

I was stubborn to the core

Filled with a distrust in authority and a newfound feeling

I did not understand

Which grew and manifested in this hollow home

That creaked and splintered with every step I took

Well I'm sorry mom, and I’m sorry dad

I'm sorry Sammy for the distance and the aftermath

That stained and desecrated the person that I am today

The sour discoloration that fills my day to day

I'll rest with this in my guts

As I'm forced through the incinerator

Yeah it's cold and it's calculated

And it won't stop 'til I'm obliterated