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Anxiety Songtext
von Bmike

Anxiety Songtext

Every single day it breaks me to pieces
I've tasted defeat of defeat of my demons
I'm such a fucking waste of achievement
I should put this trigger to my brain and just squeeze it
'Cause Lord I know I ain't been no saint
But tell me what I did to deserve this pain
Tell me what I did to deserve this hurt
When all I ever did was put everybody first
(And how does that make you feel?)
These days I just don't feel shit
I don't feel a thing at all
I don't feel like I exist
That's why I need my fix
So I can just feel something
How do you describe the word empty
Try to describe the word nothing
Wait, fuck that
Use my name as a definition
Write it on my forehead
Defective out of commission


I'm sick of it, losing my self
I'm sick of it
Take my fingerprints
You'll see that I did all of the percentages
I've given it my all
I've given it my all and so much more
But everybody still walking out that door
I've given it my all
It's getting to the point where it's sad as fuck
I've given it my all but it's not enough, it's not enough
The sleeping pills don't work
The healing pills don't work
I still feel pain with pain pills
And now those same pills don't work
If I don't get a couple perks
I'm about to go berzerk
I swear to god nobody can fix this shit
Not even the church
Now tell me what good would a pastor do
Except be mad at you
And tell you that you sinned a bunch of times
But I've forgiven you
You know they won't admit it
And god himself is forbidden
But it's probably still just half of all the shit the priest committed
(And how does that make you feel?)
Ask me one more time how the fuck I feel
I'm gonna fucking lose my mind
Step aside I need the pills
Step aside I need the Xanays
Step aside I need the Vicodin
And I'll be on my way
So I can just get back to my life again
You do not give a shit
Stop pretending, stop lying
'Cause to you I'm just a check, bitch
Just a dollar sign
Another vaycay with the kids
Oh hubby couldn't be prouder
All you had to do was ask me how I feel for an hour
See that's the problem with pretentious technicalities
You preach insanity
And then expect my weekly salary
So tell me whose the crazy person now bitch
And yet you think your qualified to treat me
I've given it my all
I've given it my all and so much more
But everybody still walking out that door
I've given it my all
It's getting to the point where it's sad as fuck
I've given it my all but it's not enough, it's not enough
Man I came up a young way
Just a young jersey nigga
Pullin' in my timber
Afraid I might pull this trigger
It's fucking anxiety
Fucking anxiety
My demons are calling and sayin' they want whatever's inside of me
I'ma give it to 'em
I'ma give them all of it
Used to be a small operetta
Now it's the opposite
Anxiety
All big-time anxiety
I feel it's runnin' through my veins
I'm afraid I might get the blade
And make a slit and let the blood spill out
Anxiety
All big-time anxiety
Anxiety

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