THE GRAYSTONE.

This feeling in my chеst
Oh my God, oh my God
I'm getting close to puke if it doesn't ever stop
What if everybody dies and there is no God?
Everybody turns on me like the world and it doesn't ever stop

You're nothing but a junkie, bitch
So put those bullets through my head until I cannot twitch
I'd rather have a Chelsea Smile than feel like this
So take the side of my lips and just rip them to bits

I don't feel like myself
Keep me in a cage
Keep me in a cell
I'm convinced nothing comes after
This life is the hell

Don't you bite the hand that feeds you bitch
I'm just here to help
I'm not here for fucking sequels bitch
I was doing well
Don't you bite the hand that feeds you bitch
I'm just here to help
I'm really not here for a sequel bitch
I was doing well

Rip my smile in two
Rip my smile in two
Rip my smile in two
Rip my smile in two

Come rip it up or I'll rip yours
Shut up, you is just a sick whore, bitch
Every single day is tormenting
Your words are a punch to the gut like a late-term abortion
I feel like I'm being extorted
Make me feel so unimportant
With you? When it rains, it's pouring
With you? When it rains-

This feeling in my chеst
Oh my God, oh my God
I'm getting close to puke if it doesn't ever stop
What if everybody dies and there is no God?
Everybody turns on me like the world and it doesn't ever stop

You don't know if you gonna die soon
Might as well smile for the camera
Make it worthwhile
Might as well be that little clown in the corner
Does she show up in your sleep
But you wish you didn't know her?
Well me too
I don't wanna be here anymore than you do
Bent over backwards
Trying not to lose you
Well look how it worked out
Look how it worked out
Look how it worked out, look-



Credits
Writer(s): Crai, Nguyen Hung
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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