Abiotic If I Do Die
Constantly crashing
The air smells like plastic
Lost in the mattress
I promise to crack this
Constantly crashing
The air smells like plastic
Lost in the mattress
I promise to crack this
The craving gets sweeter
I start to get weaker
Flames burn from below
As time starts to show
Unsure of my fate
Does a casket await?
Or a box in the cold
With my thoughts all alone
There's a rush I can not describe
There's no qualms if I do die
I find comfort in the sprint towards the last slumber
Comfort in pain
Destroying
Bodily functions
Hunger is gone
So is my taste
Clawing my face
I'm starting to tracе
Needing assistance expelling my wastе
This is a cry for help
I need someone else
Someone to carry me home
Someone to carry me home
Someone to carry me home
Someone to carry me home
Just one more chance
Just one more chance
Just one more chance
Just one more chance
