Crucified to my past life
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