March of the Trig

Been facing a lot of the disaster I wrote out
Chasing, distraught and a master of colds now
I bought myself a trigger just to envy the pull clout
I can't believe I'm bigger than my emptiness knows now

Try to find a reason just to cut it out
Try to find my season just to run around
Bye to all my demons, they hide back and shout
Fuck you and your disaster, sir

You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving
You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving

Cut me open like a Taylor Swift greeting card
Blood is boiling from my subconscious fleeting hard
Death is trill but you can't get back what you bought
I'm for real when I say the shit's peeled and caught

The fishes cry for a new September
The humans cry for a fucking flavor
The earth weeps for earning profit, your god
No more prophets when the money buys what you want

You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving
You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving

The money's fake as fuck
Cue disaster, you can't shake what you want
You're a master of stab and shake till stuck
Only master is burning at your guts

Cue disaster, you're finding Forrest Gump
You're a master of throwing out your haunts
I'm just plastering the walls with fiction lumps
I'll erase you when I get what I want

You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving
You got me up a fucking tree I'm leaving
I'm done with this all of this mindless receiving



Credits
Writer(s): Gary Wilson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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