They say they never really miss you til you dead or your gone,
I hold my head up high while I'm writing this song,
then I'm lighting my Bong trying to right all my wrongs,
I could lose my life and reunite all along,
with everyone that was close to me,
that was supposed to be,
rising to the top in the coaster breeze,
now I blow snot staying close to priests,
soul feels shot, you know they go in 3's,
drugs, dissease, overseas,
seppuku, motors seized,
clapped up, some mysteries,
mystified with these misty eyes,
I remember when they said we only live to die,
before I kick the bucket I hope my list is right,
Im a kiss the sky, kiss the sky,
hold you tight and make a gift of life,
and I still wonder if they never called your number,
would we kick it hitting bubblers like we used to in the summer,
you let your vice control you, console, remold you, a new cold you, that broke your will and unfold you,
but sometimes,
I think that it's intentional,
demerol,
drone strikes,
night of the sentinels,
fentanyl,
GMO's intestinal, vegetables,
sectional views from the pentacle,
tentacles piercing your ventricles,
extra broke, ideals so impenetrable,
born expendable, you're only flexible,
until you snap under the weight that;s inevitable,
purpose illegible,
level the pedestal,
take a deep breath,
and let it go...