This isn't art this is suicide in a social way
I don't have the need and I don't have the time
I will tell you why
Because I think about it all the time
I think about what's true and what's lies
I used to think the things in my head were true
Sensory feedback from things like you
I don't know why this must be
The guitar's misleading me
I don't know why
I've got this social suicide
From a sensory overload
It's a hell of a time
From a sensory overload
Tricky little mind
When I think about the quivering flesh
I think about this urban mess
It makes my brain begin to reel
I don't understand all the things that I hear
I just wanna hide from the things that I feel

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