Chubby & The Gang Pressure
I look in the mirror not sure what I see
There's a man in my skin staring back at me
There's a funeral in my brain
Rocking me left to right
Lowering me to my grave
I can't get no relief
Tensions rising as we speak
I can't get no relief, I can't eat, I can't sleep
The rain like drums, pounding in my ear
Birds of spring h
Ave all disappeared
The statues and end times all promised to me, turn to days to weeks to months to years
Pressure
Coming down like bombs in the night
Rolling thunder over city skylinеs
There's a drill turning in my skull
Gnawing at the bonе inside my head
Closer and closer to my brain
And I don't think it'll stop until I'm dead
