im forced to wake up when im not even sleeping going to bed when im not even dreaming im just a good for nothing waste of space contributing to less than anything deadbeat a fucking disease everyone is a burden weighing down on the people who love them deadbeat broke and distraught with no money to eat and on the subject of love ive learned to never get my hopes up because it always ends in disappointment i cant make myself happy how could i do the same for you put you through this hell the pressure of my fingers pressing on sealed eyes can only fix so much rip my heart out bury it deep spit on the ground where it s resting beneath and as i drive these tree lined streets i cant help but sink into my seat and as i write these words wondering if theyre heard i realize theyre the only thing im proud of the only thing at all waiting by the phone when im talking all alone i dont belong on the ground that i walk on i dont deserve the air that i breathe ive become lower than low can be but i wont go youd be all alone deadbeat curable disease