A bullet

In my arm

A man standing over me

Over me

I wanted

To crash my car

I wanted

To sleep in tomorrow

There’s no job

There’s no life

That I can see myself in

I hate that

That third month

When it all becomes boring

There’s no place

There’s no one that I can call my hometown

Rotten food

Dirty clothes

There’s no job

There’s no life

That I can see myself in

I hate that

That third month

When it all becomes boring

There’s no place

There’s no one that I can call my homеtown

Rotten food

Dirty clothes

Therе’s no job

There’s no life

That I can see myself in

I hate that

That third month

When it all becomes boring

There’s no place

There’s no one that I can call my hometown

Rotten food

Dirty clothes