All the dead animals covered in Gods left over coke,
where the fuck do they go?
Me, I've got a lack of hope, and a few broken bones.
Where you think I will go?
It's like reaching that deep sex place in your stomach
where everything around you is nothing,
and you've forgotten to prepare for the second coming.
All the millions of ways this shit could go,
and you think you broke the code.
What the hell do you know?
Death comes quick no meaning with it, fast and over with.
No where left to go.