If I'm being honest, I can't decide if my poems are death notes or love letters

When I lay low and all I think is how I could have done more and endured pressure

Late night reality checks got me thinking about this complex

If I'm next, overdosing off my fatal position with my intuition

I compare it to sex, with these lustful pulls, falling angels after my soul

Asking me for product and gold to hold them close, yet leave them alone

The hell am I thinking for when my heart's so cold

Oh lord, just tell me where to go

La-Da-Da-Day

La-Da-Da-Day

This constant agitation from the perception I've created

So jaded and lately I know that I'm hated

My daughter's mother is happier after the separation

I may be doing better, but I can't take it

Wish I could go back, erase it

White-out the canvas

I bled on and drop it on the pavement

All these life lessons keep teaching me I can't change it

Opportunity keeps adding up

And my luck has fallen up and down and I hate it

Can't do more than stand straight and

Find beauty in the doves

Keep getting pigeonholed into everything I've done

Nobody giving a damn about who I was

Only caring about what I'll become

Telling me God's forgetting his son

It's emotional misery, depression in imagery, laying next to my mistakes

Like fuck what it meant to me

All this dirty money on the table as I'm reading fables

Comparing the bible to chronic on a turntable

Keep burning and turning the pages till I feel stable

Choosing poverty over the money I made from helping people become disabled

It's so hard why nothing better than lies and material labels

Sick of the devil trying to connect to my holy cable

La-Da-Da-Day

La-Da-Da-Day