Текст песни 18, I'm Not Killing Myself - Syn Suitcase

A person who thinks all the time
Has nothing to think about except thoughts
So, he loses touch with reality

Yeah
I give faith a taste via a thought
Furtive phase please I don't wanna talk
Murderous ways that kid raised wrong
Blood thirsty what a waste, the kid located away far where he belong
Too alone
Too deep into his dome
With no home
A kid with an overthinking thought extending too long
A bid of drinking bought bad mind sets to wrongs
Bringing the idea of God to his cortex just withdrawn
With his bong
I'm sorry old me I lost my soul when crawling for you in the lawn

My life is gone
The whole thing is gone
I used to think when I turn 18 the whole thing is gonna be gone

Yeah
Odd face difficult to commit when heart stale
Odd taste hard to speak when the trachea fail
Can't speak, swallow those words your hearts frail
Hide in private to weap your life down not meant to walk trails
And your lady probably dislike you in secret, her love a tale
Live or tell
How you supposed to tell your friend's on your last limb you fell
I hit a bottom so I resort to break things off, hard to smell
This love between us taking strains it's painful to dwell
Put my foot down today don't ring that bell
I'm hopping off that parking garage my life to sell
Been debating for months on end my brain entrapped in a cell
And I can't relay this in person but my loved ones I dream to excel
My dad relays his disappointment too often my life to repel
Repays missing appointments I promise everyone listening my mental ain't well

My life is gone
The whole thing is gone