Crucified to my past lives
Be my blue suicide
Self-esteem makes little sense
Primitive and malcontent
I guess a smile
Has it's place
But there's a skull
Under my face
It's in control
I do what I'm told.
Lovers in self-denial
Fucking execution style
Drown the summer, burn the beach
Going under, drinking bleach
Can you stay legit
And keep it real
While your hunger begs
You for mass appeal
So you can hide
From what time won't heal