A little bit angry

I’m a little bit angry about what you did,
I’m a little bit angry about what it means,
If I spit on acoustic guitar,
I don’t even know if it heals the scar or if it makes it even worse
That the actual factual casual pain you gave me
When the words punched me into the wall,
 
I don’t give a damn about many things, but I can’t ignore all the sadness it brings to be lost in lust,
At list it allows me to let my lovely weird feelings fall on my computer keyboard,
Oh lord,
 
I hate to be like this,
We all hate that catharsis, you feel lost in the dark looking for the light during your nights watch.
Nights to sleep or nights to think,
My mind made the choice alone, I couldn’t even blink,
I totally get that I piss you off,
But you should also get that I feel a loss,
Now it makes me weak about everything I ever trusted in,
What if I was the jerk who’s complaining
And you’d have done nothing but helping me realizing what I really am,
What if music was only a way of getting somewhere or getting to be someone until I’ve got to get a proper flat and find my place,
I feel like I play with my bones to find my place,
it’s like a game of thrones finally.
And if my face melts it’s that I lost the game, maybe it’ll get me to live alone with a guitar looking for bars to give credit to my music, asking labels to pay attention to me as I stick to the rhythm because it’s the only thing I had ever known.

Because it’s a poor paper who pays your bills,
It’s a perfect example of what humans made as we blow the pills,
We gave up all the given gifts to give credit to the traps we receive.

We smoke these sticks of poison,
We kill animals for lotion,
We eat 24/7 like potion, food created by promotion,
Because we want to live easy,
But we don’t wanna get fat,
So we eat and then we throw up,
Because our belly has to be flat.
​
That’s basically the same for everything,
You, you loved and you let go,
Cause finally “you’re more like a bro”,
I’m trying to hate people but I just can’t,
I’m just trying to be decent,
You come you go, you live you die,
You get one shot but it’s all a lie,
I make music for my personal state,
But now everything is about fate,
Either it works, it pays for what it is,
Either I have to write shit to get some fees.
I’m a little bit angry about what you did,
I’m a little bit angry about what it means,
If I spit on acoustic guitar,
I don’t even know if it heals the scar or if it makes it even worse
That the actual factual casual pain you gave me
When the words punched me into the wall,