home bowman – hypoxia lyrics
hear my truth
i’m a bl++dy mess
i’m feeling every song i write
stab me in my chest
you don’t know a f+cking thing
about the sh+t i left
every heart i broke just to
penny pinch the stress
put a smile on and wink
like i’m using crest
hide the animus in cannabis
who want it next?
i just have the better formula
y+intercept
they’re still talking like i’m bad at this
i interject
you think that you’d do better b+tch?
i’d like to see you sweat
i’ll do you worse than back when daddy
used to make you stretch
oh my god…
let’s take it back i was 17 up in garci’s class
saw you were crying in the corner so i came to ask you
what the f+ck was up, it’s something bout that girl ash
i talked you through it, that’s a memory that i cannot bash
another time i was tearing on telegram too rash
you were there to help me through the days i couldn’t last
even when my jaw was clenching chewing on a pencil
i still love you for the moments that we shared in past
i hope the p+ssy was worth it i guess i’m moving on
i got some sh+t to explain but that’s a different song
another topic another day but i’m hanging on
why the f+ck am i still talking about october when
i’m stuck with panic disorder i barely see the sky
i turned my back on so many friends and they wonder why
i’ve burned so many bridges, made so many people cry
even called t+++++ an anorexic fly
i’m not here to be admired or smile i want an exit
keep the circle small i’ve been smoking and seeking respite
dipping my toes in the water always try to test it
i can’t love another person too much of an investment
breathing quick and my stomach’s growling i might not make it
try to calm with my palm on my heart that feels so vacant
another problem arises a deeper pit that’s inside of me
slowly fall to the side i’m suicidal
the end of my time is near i can almost taste it
a word of advice i would give you is not to waste it
i’m still so young but my body might need replacement
for 7 months i’ve been shrinking to almost weightless
if i make it i promise i will not turn out weak
i’ll write an album so heinous that it’d be leaving streaks
don’t have a title but know that i’ll make it extra bleak
if i don’t make it then f+ck it at least i died to me
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