Think about the coffin, often
Would rather auction my heart than become an orphan
To this world, I keep walking with nowhere to go
Around these women I keep my caution
Beautiful eyes, with a sinful kind of glow
I never know which way to go
I feel lost in the self, my health and depictions of wealth
Painted in pictures on my crumbling shelf
I second guess my words because I guess I'm the problem
That little boy with dreams and this life chose to rob him
Thoughts of a false reality that I'm lost in
Seventeen years to this day I haven't stopped them
How I'm living's what the problem is
Patting down my pockets, asking where my wallet is
You were supposed to fix the hollowness
Mental health is where the problem is
I hate myself, my body's what I'm rotting in
I say what I think, I'm intolerant
Never one to drink but tonight hand me the bottle
Imma swallow it
Give me a path to live differently, I will follow it
I wanna end me that's what the problem is
Always the problem kid
"You a fucking problem kid"
Oh, is that so? Where were you a couple months ago?
If I had to choose you'd be the first one to go
I'm the fucking problem?
There's a lot you don't know
How I appear like I can do it on my own
Where were you when I was calling on your phone
Where were you when I had no one to turn to
And you told me you'd be there, you let my feelings burn through
Without a second thought I hope you fucking burn too
