CONVERSATIONS WITH THE DEAD
What
Dead body to the weight, yuh
Lay you down to sleep, I felt the blame
I don't hesitate, (what) spill my brain, I contemplate
Pills stashed away from him
Backup bottles in the bin
I die from everyone that you want me to be, yuh
Smoke your cigarettes, place your bets
Run a check, yuh, take your fucking breath
Less and less, you made this mess, yuh
Blame your bed, blame your meds
Blame your fucking kid, yeah
Sing your song, loud mouth with your missing vowels
You don't wanna see me blow up
With the rest of them, do you
You don't go outside, see the dying night anew
Oh, it's take the blame time
Always tuck your blade high
You made mine to fade life
No longer dying from inside, what
Please never come close, no highs
Just living low, you say you know how it goes
But this life you chose, deemed to cons
While you dodge and prose
But I know I seem as a ghost
But one day you will know I pose
As one who overthrows
Tell a fuckin decomposed, disclose this life
I'll leave it all enclosed
Don't want to be found, be fucked with like pharaohs
But I'm trying to make the figure of fucker work
But I swear to fuck, man, if this don't work
Put me in the fucken dirt, uh
Conversations with the dead
Psychedelic's in my head, in my head, yuh
Merry fucking Christmas
Here's your wish list, take your pictures
Conversations with the dead
Yeah, they never fucking listen, aye
Pistol to the head, missed all that he said
Wrist still dripping when he bled
Conversations with the dead
Conversations
Dead body to the weight, yuh
Lay you down to sleep, I felt the blame
I don't hesitate, (what) spill my brain, I contemplate
Pills stashed away from him
Backup bottles in the bin
I die from everyone that you want me to be, yuh
Smoke your cigarettes, place your bets
Run a check, yuh, take your fucking breath
Less and less, you made this mess, yuh
Blame your bed, blame your meds
Blame your fucking kid, yeah
Sing your song, loud mouth with your missing vowels
You don't wanna see me blow up
With the rest of them, do you
You don't go outside, see the dying night anew
Oh, it's take the blame time
Always tuck your blade high
You made mine to fade life
No longer dying from inside, what
Please never come close, no highs
Just living low, you say you know how it goes
But this life you chose, deemed to cons
While you dodge and prose
But I know I seem as a ghost
But one day you will know I pose
As one who overthrows
Tell a fuckin decomposed, disclose this life
I'll leave it all enclosed
Don't want to be found, be fucked with like pharaohs
But I'm trying to make the figure of fucker work
But I swear to fuck, man, if this don't work
Put me in the fucken dirt, uh
Conversations with the dead
Psychedelic's in my head, in my head, yuh
Merry fucking Christmas
Here's your wish list, take your pictures
Conversations with the dead
Yeah, they never fucking listen, aye
Pistol to the head, missed all that he said
Wrist still dripping when he bled
Conversations with the dead
Conversations
Credits
Writer(s): Reece Bramley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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