Hell

So I
I can help myself
I need no one else
Just to tell me
The world is my oyster
And everything's great
Cause I know that it's not
All you fucks are the same
All I need's being drunk with my best friends at night
More tattoos and more friends who hate things that I don't like

"Well is that what you live for
To tell yourself you're not sure
To realize at the end of the day you're useless"

I know
That my dad was right
With all of his advice
I should've listened

But maybe these experiences
Hold some sort of epiphany
Like that the finer things in life to me
Are high life friends and my family

but I'm happiest when I'm alone
smoking cigarettes and thinking in the cold
it's a long way down
when you're 6 feet underground
And success is a state of mind that I'll never fully reach
Because what's the point
If there's even a point
Life's a reoccurring hangover
I can't fucking sleep it off
I'm fucked and that's the way I like it

So God
He can't save us now
He's in our living hell
And he knows that
I'm still sick and tired
Of just being fucked
On this brass bed of nails
That keeps puncturing my lungs
I keep closing my eyes and breathing in deep
all the colors are gone and I can finally sleep