[Hook]
Nights of anxiety and crippling fear, my muse dead, but I like keeping it near
Haven't slept soundly in quite a few years
I feel like the Devil likes keeping me here
Can't decide what's worse: thoughts about death, or living long enough to see the rest, just so I can sit up, in some hospital bed, countin' minutes, until the last bit of my breath
[Verse 1]
Let me start by saying good night and good luck, might as well keep it a buck, this a song for the times where I didn't think I'd live too long, nowadays I'm better off you can just ease up
Ridin' downtown, Coupe with the leather, if you wanna know the paper trail read the ledger
Pullin' all the cash flow together, thinkin' 'bout the times when I wasn't so clever
Had to shower out of a sink a whole decade, now I come home and I got the whole bed made
Me and my babe, in East LA, where I haven't been quite happier in my whole life, ‘imma make a lil Guatemalan queen my wife, ‘imma keep building up, let 'em buckle up, ‘imma settle down for us in a place that's right, and far away from the things that go bump in the night
[Hook]
Nights of anxiety and crippling fear, my muse dead, but I like keeping it near, haven't slept soundly in quite a few years
I feel like the Devil likes keeping me here
Can't decide what's worse: thoughts about death, or living long enough to see the rest, just so I can sit up, in some hospital bed, countin' minutes, until the last bit of my breath
[Verse 2]
The older I get, the more I think about my past and how it can either harden you or turn into glass like comets make craters, trees make paper, and all this anguish into anger;
Every day is a struggle, hype as we get out the huddle, send a clear path to the bundle, through the fundamentals, but anxiety is like an elevator it'll take you to another level
So I'm peekin' through blinds, checkin' for the sign 'cause I ain't always feel like what I've made is mine
It's too good for truth, ‘imma need some more proof, where I been you better check for leaks in the roof
So I'm watchin' my back, sittin' in my hand is an unlit match, tried too many times to strike it
I know it'll never light again but I hold it to my chest like it's my last friend
[Hook]
During nights of anxiety and crippling fear, my muse dead, but I like keeping it near
Haven't slept soundly in quite a few years
I feel like the Devil likes keeping me here
Can't decide what's worse: thoughts about death, or living long enough to see the rest, just so I can sit up, in some hospital bed, countin' minutes, until the last bit of my breath