Descended

Its time to face the curtain call, time to face the reviews and critics of life
Blind fighting with mic's with the courage of being right in having rights
Tell me my friend, will I find my peace with my piece?
Guerilla warfare of emotions with a burning desire for g's
I wont mind being judged, I think it's about time for me
to see, what's left in this metaforical sense of irony

Thick smoke from blunts and reefers
Scaring my friends like jeepers creepers
I won't mind, read my mind, finding out what's right inside

I'm living it, breathing it, denying it, seeing it
Forcefeeding my soul with blind inhabitions
Looking back in anger, sold my soul for strict remeniscense
I was pretty sure, I was left alone with this boulder on my shoulder
Opening the window, complaning since it's getting colder
Sharing my fears of not geting any older

Thick clouds in my head, from powder
Screaming in silence, getting lowder and lowder
Cheap thrills, in alcohol and pills