Scrappy's trip

I didn't write the rules you know, I merely redefined
Fucking torture I can't stand the sights to see
Blank space covers their eyes
Common cuss is barely alive
Slow erosion I hate the scene, hate the feel
All your days been numbered clearly, I bit down choked on your failure
No explosion can crease the fear
Alluring skies
Busting rails and I've punctured my head
Big city rat the race
A country boy immersed in grace
Slow convulsions I hate the scene hate the feel
All your days been numbered clearly, I bit down choked on your failure
This ain't no howling cry, this is a guiding hand
Striking you down, while slowly sinking
Fall into the wall
Crawl under the hall