Vacant

[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]