B.U.A.B.S.
Born under a bad sign
"Born to be buried alive"
Daddy gave Momma a ring,
A broken nose, and two black eyes
Fastest gun in the Midwest
But only ever aimed at his chest
They said, "Only Jesus can save him."
But He hasn't shown up yet
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I am not sure if it's going to get better anymore.
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“What do you do from morning to night?"
"I endure myself.”
― Emil Cioran
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Fucked up and fancy free.
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It will never pass.
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Anne Sexton, from a letter featured in Anne Sexton; A Self-Portrait In Letters
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"Where do bad folks go when they die?"
I threw up in the sink again
Cleaning rotten teeth
Spitting into porcelain
God has made us
In this exact
Opposite image
Don't believe me,
Keep singing
Not for your supper
But that He won't
Let you suffer
Lake of Fire
Another alternative rock band
I Found on the internet
Find one song that burrows
On deep down in
I play it constantly
Much like these confessions
Don't believe them,
Keep praying
Not for others
But that He won't
Let you suffer
Lake of Fire
Three mental illnesses
Killing me softly
Death by a thousand
Traumatic thoughts
Saw my best friend die
For God's glory
Don't believe Him,
Keep breathing
Don't be afraid
Of questioning
Why we suffer
Lake of Fire
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Just threw up while listening to "The Truth" by Jason Aldean. There's probably something poetic in that.
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Nameless, shameless, rearrange us.
I want to kill something beautiful
I want to not return God's many calls
I want the guilt of a hydrogen bomb three seconds over Nagasaki
I want to nail Christ back on a cross until he asks for forgiveness from me
I want to be an ocean no vessel returns from
I want to be a mistake that takes your life away
I want the guilt of Hitler three seconds before the bunker door is kicked in
I want to make God feel as lonely as I feel now
I want out of this world
I want in on the joke
I want an optimistic outlook
I want a goddamn reason to give a good goddamn
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i wonder if the thought of me haunts you
the way the thought of you haunts me
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Death March
I can't see for the pitch before me
Something much darker than the void
It orbits around my heart, the prodigal son
Self-fulfilling entropy, infinite teeth devour
Marrow siphoned from my bones like oil
Joy drawn from my soul with a holy syringe
In every conceivable way, I am dead
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