>the years go fast and the days go so slow

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>and you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
>racing around to come up behind you again
>the sun is the same in the a relative way, but you're older
>shorter of breath, and one day closer to death

>My brain's the weak heart, and my heart's the long stairs

>when you spend your day consuming media and then stop to ask yourself why are you doing this

Here comes the hot stepper, murderer. I'm the lyrical gangster, murderer. ... No no we don't die, yes we multiply.

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>Only in October, now it's nearly over
>Maybe in November if you can remember

>Broken teeth for months, it seems
>Like you, like hell
>Weekend comes and now you feel
>Like your afterlife
>Sometimes you'll laugh so hard you'll cry

>You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?
>You wasted life, why don't you waste the afterlife

>Nothing makes me want to disappear
>As when someone opens their mouth

>Well I'll go to college and I'll learn some big words and I'll talk real loud
>God damn right I'll be heard
>You'll remember the guy who said all those big words he must've learned in college

>I didn't feel angry or depressed
>I didn't feel anything at all

>Sometimes all I really want to feel is love
>Sometimes I'm angry that I feel so angry
>Sometimes my feelings get in the way
>Of what I really feel I needed to say

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>I've been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand.
>Could these sensations make me feel the pleasures of a normal man?
>These sensations barely interest me for another day.
>I've got the spirit, lose the feeling, take the shock away.