He’s trying to find his destiny and fate

Right now he’s wishing he made more mistakes

Because he’s a bastard and his anger is like a cancer

And the world is a lymphatic system for him to spread his shit

Cause people when they meet you

They know that you be cool

For the most part

Wishing he was dead

With a pistol to his head

But the clip is empty

Nothing is going in and nothing is coming out

But his rage and his doubts

And the things that he’s done

That he can’t talk about

The places that he’s been

The hurt from within

He doesn’t have any kids

But he wishes that he did

He’s trying to find his balance

But everything’s not the same

He’s a steeple for depressed people

And he’s more evil

He wishes that he knew the real you

But the real you isn’t see through

Just another black hole of conceptual absurdity

He’s the embodiment of nonsense and debauchery

Too fucked up to be a role model

How though do people follow him?

Gravity does not exist

The force is electromagnet and we’re attracted

Like two pole in a collage of contradicting patterns


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