[Verse 1]
Vacant bodies, living with talking heads
Zombies straight outta' the Walking Dead
In a rush, stumbling over glass they tread
For answers, but settle for a drink instead
An empty vessel
Ghosts and cheats, they wrestle with constant stress,
Till' drunk birds leave the nest,
Ill from poison in their bodies with intoxicants,
Spending their whole life tryna' knock the sense,
That it's worthless, without meaning and no purpose
Numbing their brains with chemicals on purpose,
In a hope
That a change will make reality hurt less,
A way to lose your mind in life's illogical circus
But it seems like it might be the only escape from a society that's filled with anger and hate
Drown in a bottle, seems' so poetic —
(We're experiencing an epidemic)
Cuz' I woulda' done anything to get to that quick fix,
And I lost my identity somewhere in the sick-tricks
My soul has left my body and now there's a vacancy
Pills inside my head and now the devil's tempting me
It's a nauseating pain, it's a story of self-sustain, just conforming to be the same and exploring and can't restrain, but it's boring, it doesn't change, the endorphin's I can't contain, while it's pouring through every vein and I'm soaring, I feel insane.
[Instrumental]
[Verse 2]
Vacant...
Fill my soul with energy or Hennessy's, something to control dependency
It's ending me, it is like a hole, my enemy
It's ten-to-three rolling on the flow of this tendency
It's heaven, see?
When you feel the rush
The pill in me, it's killing me, it's building' up
But I'm still in touch, and I feel the brush
And God's hand, not man, but it's real enough
But not real enough, cuz' now I'm left for dead
With little birds spiralling around my head, tryna' stop the spread, just like my friends all fled
Now leave with someone else with the things I said
Now I'm deserted here, in this lonely place,
Expression of another man across my face
Cuz' I lost my place and I'm trapped inside
Don't tell me I can save myself, you know I've tried
[Verse 3]
I met an old man, with eyes that gleamed,
With broken promises and faded dreams
His palms told stories, hands unclean, gentle face, and a smile that beamed
And as I stood by him, in my faded jeans, he told me all about the life he’d seen
He mused upon what it could have been if it wasn’t all spent in a bottle of Lean
As he painted a picture of a musky scene,
His life advice had a constant theme:
He said "time goes slow in a worn out dream"
As life gets dimmer, the more you’ve seen
Like watered down paint run into the river,
Falls off-beat but the flow gets thicker;
Drinking up in Flint, make that poor boy sicker
The buzz comes slow but the brush hits quicker
[Instrumental]
[End]
