Tree lose their green after spring
Plants wilt away and leave there seed
Animals burrow up and sleep
Yet im here struggling to make it through the week

Romantisizing death
The reapers seems so tender sweet
Taking in the weak for eternal peace
Tearing them away from their heavy baggage
Including the ulgy flesh and meat
Leaving the catacombs we call bones

Better off
By myself
I need space

Im countin on
My selfish doubts
To choreograph
The perfect out

You see me fallin, beneath your feet
Ya see me crawlin, away from here
I see the alter, followin me
I tried to argue but it would never help
I need this time to myself
I need time to myself
Im countin on
My selfish doubts
Yo choreograph
The perfect out

Made my bed
Cleared my head
Closed my eyes
Let me rest
Fuck the help
Fuck my friends
Fuck my life
Let me end

I think... i think.... i think
I think i need this time to myself
I need time to myself
Im countin on
My selfish doubts
To choreograph
The perfect out