i m not the greatest writer oh i m not the greatest no i m not perfect not even novelist this time you better listen up oh life have barely changed twenty two still pissed plenty of shits in the backpack and nikes on my feet many pieces are missing since i came back home i can t deal with my own life i m incomplete another empty wreck shit i m just the shell of a man which is absent i m wearing his skin but i m partially vacant what i have is far from being gold but i write open hearted my balls in the inkwell fuck it i m done with swallowing bullshit since hitting it off has become an addiction i needed more than these words going nowhere to show you that my life is not such a poem some black clouds will get so much bigger no matter how lucky i am i ve never learned how to live with the thunder my heart is a lightning rod and i m walking under a thunderstorm mesmerized by the lights with my eyes half shut i do live through these lines writing this song just to say what i got to i need much more than these words just to show you that it s a struggle to be able to believe in this life i write with my heart open even if it can be so callous just listen this heartbeat have so much to say i just can t keep it in i just won t keep it in i m not the greatest writer and this isn t the greatest song i m not perfect not even novelist i m not saint i m not a fucking prophet fuck this i m just drifting i keep moving pushed by the movement i m still trying to pull the strings of my fucking life oh you can keep the pain the fame the money and the whores cause i m a body shaped shell in a sorry state