[Verse 1]
I wake up with a mouth like a war zone
Swear I dreamed about the end again
Ashtray full of burnt ends
And a phone full of texts I’ll never send
I trade therapy for another vice
And call it "just getting through the week"
A pack of smokes, and bottles of hope
I'm just trying to cope...
[Pre-Chorus]
Yeah, I laugh too loud to hide the shakes
Say I’m “just tired” when I'm really about to break
Under the weight of staying sane
A mess is what I became...
[Chorus]
I built a church out of bad habits,
Lit candles with my guilt.
Preaching sermons to the ceiling fan
In a room I never rebuilt
I wear my trauma like an old jacket
Frayed, patched up, but still intact
Half-hearted halo on my head,
I keep moving because at least I'm not dead
[Verse 2]
I keep my meds in nicotine
Next to a rope that's eyeing me
Stumble past people living better lives
And pretend I'm not gonna crash
I lie to friends because they don't need to know
“Yeah, I’ve been fine, just laying low”
But my minds tattooed with trauma,
And I'm tired of the drama.
[Pre-Chorus]
Yeah, I laugh too loud to hide the shakes
Say I’m “just tired” when I'm really about to break
Under the weight of staying sane
A mess is what I became...
[Chorus]
I built a church out of bad habits,
Lit candles with my guilt.
Preaching sermons to the ceiling fan
In a room I never rebuilt
I wear my trauma like an old jacket
Frayed, patched up, but still intact
Half-hearted halo on my head,
I keep moving because at least I'm not dead
[Bridge]
I swear I tried the clean way
I tried the prayers, the pills, the breaks
But the silence always screams the loudest
When you’re alone with your mistakes
So I stitch myself together
With caffeine, rage, and it shows
It’s not the fix the books all preach
But it’s the only way I know
[Solo]
[Pre-Chorus]
Yeah, I laugh too loud to hide the shakes
Say I’m “just tired” when I'm really about to break
Under the weight of staying sane
A mess is what I became...
[Chorus]
I built a church out of bad habits,
Lit candles with my guilt.
Preaching sermons to the ceiling fan
In a room I never rebuilt
I wear my trauma like an old jacket
Frayed, patched up, but still intact
Half-hearted halo on my head,
I keep moving because at least I'm not dead
ArtoftheEscape
