Too many sneezes on the bathroom
Too many blood on the toilet paper
Still loosing the control
The stirring of my head bone
Too many girls in my bedroom
Not enough guns on my television
Who s talking on the phone
The lick is cleaning the pole
My body melts all over my bed
The last bite and I think I ll be dead
The taste of shite in the breakfast
The same shows and the same cast
I don’t get anything at all
Still loosing the control
A lot of friends into the crowd
Disappearing behind a cloud
I don’t see anything at all
Who’s talking on the phone
My body melts all over my bed
The last bite and I think I ll be dead