I don't think you understand the the severity of my depression.
If you did you'd know it justifies my smoking sessions.
I don't do it to get "lit" or to have a good fucking time,
I do it cause I can't sleep unless I'm really fucking high.
My brain it eats at me and won't let me breathe.
The destruction and misery that's inside of me.
It keeps me awake and when they ask I just fake
a smile until they nod, say okay and walk away.
It may seem like I'm angry and I must say that's the truth.
How would you feel if it was you murdering you?
From the inside out until theres nothing fucking left.
But you crucify me because I have to clear my head.