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Ghost Sector
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Meanwhile, In Bartlett
This time I plan on walking through that fucking door
I know I've said this a million other times before
These suburban lights all look the same
I feel so stuck and I'm the one to blame
Don't think that I can't face the truth
Disassociation seems to blind you
Go through the motions day by day just to get by
Pawn off possessions every weekend to stay high
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My belongings break almost every week
Steady source of cash, wouldn't that be sweet?
No more room to say that it's getting better now
I'm not the one to be feeling down and out
A sudden fever for complete annihilation
Decaying walls of middle class seem so sublime
A paranormal sense of class segregation
Let's burn a house or two so we can pass the time
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