Bad Trip

Skreamer

I cut my fingers so my hand won't let this fucker slip
And every word it lingers, louder as I tighten grip
In every dream he haunts me mocking in his ignorance
How could I mistake deception and hate for innocence?

Will I let it slip?
Or will I take this fucker down
Is it a bad trip?
Are my feet still on the

Every laugh shared, every thought had
Every moment I want out
All your bitching, all your lying
I'll pull those two words out your mouth

You couldn't look in my eyes
When you said your goodbyes
That I could take
Now you're spreading your lies
Eating shit with the flies
No more to fake

Will I let it slip?
Or will I take this fucker down
Is it a bad trip?
Are my feet still on the ground

Stop your bitching

Tracker

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