I can't tell if it's good or bad
but pretty sure I died four years ago
blown into pieces and burned up in the crash
when they go back to the spot you can hear me laugh.
Everything since is a lucid dream
an ever increasing exercise in dystopian
and psychosis
My circumstances come plucked
straight from my fantasies
and I call all of my fears
So I don't believe in concrete
I couldn't fathom a rule
or just let it trap me
One day I'll lose my options
I won't even speak
I'll float in the corner
watching my body
But
Maybe one day instead,
I'll just free my mind
Maybe one day instead,
I'll never compromise
Maybe then that day I can really die;
Die Hungry
Die Crazy
Die Cheap
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