You can paint it black or white
Please remove me from your sight
I’m a bunch of spider mites
In the weed plant of your life

Everything’s a blowout
Nothin’ seems to come out alright
Things are never easy
Everyday’s an uphill fight

In the end I know everything’ll come out right
But in the meantime everything’s shite

You should never touch me
Energy’s ugly
Digital leprosy
You don’t wanna rep me
I don’t wanna go out
I don’t wanna stay home
Just another blowout
Broke another rib bone
(…)
Don’t hit me on my cell phone
Muted every ring tone
Leave the kid alone
Undying plague-filled spirit of old
Counterweight defying everything you’ve ever been told
You’re about to start buying everything that I sold
Because I spread to every corner like a patch of black mold

I, digress I guess I’m just the best at
Putting myself away and cutting off from the rest
Even if I was less of a mess I’d be grotesque
I’m a six tongued sick dumb son of a bitch, yeah

I’d ask my ancesta
But all they ever tell me is to kill & molest ya