paroles de chanson Ill Fate - Version Eight

Always had a notion
I would find an ill fate
At the bottom of a bottle
Of my darkest days
Don't try and tell me
That you know a fucking thing
About me bitch
The pain is real as shit
Won't quit blood spit
Throwing mother fucking fists
Sick of goddamned twists
God I've had enough of this

What the fuck
Is fucking wrong with this
This jagged emptiness
This ghostly hollow sense

Spirit touch
Upon my aching lungs
I think I've had enough
Did I not give enough?
To this fucking love illness
Jaded luck don't fail me
Still burning in my blood
I'm waking up again
So fuck your friends
I'll make myself
A bed in hell instead

They say that you can't know despair
Without hope, love lost in smoke
Another tasteless joke another toke
*Smokes*
Too many voices in my head
Left by knives in my neck
So many boxes unchecked
Should've quit UPS
Another job another mess
Can't believe this shit
I'm fucking sick
And your so full of emptiness
Don't beg me not to lift
This loaded gun
You always run from yourself
So many lies on the shelf
I won't excuse myself
Just save me a seat in hell

Spirit touch
Upon my aching lungs
I think I've had enough
Did I not give enough?
To this fucking love illness
Jaded luck don't fail me
Still burning in my blood
I'm waking up again
So fuck your friends
I'll make myself
A bed in hell instead