Apocalypse - Brye

You say you hate me?

Well I bet I hate myself more

Your comments don’t phase me

And death threats aren’t my worst problem anymore

The thoughts subside

I’m able to push through for one night more

But suicide is creeping up on my back door

I’m able to ignore it at first

Until I just can’t anymore

This feels like bad karma

Or a curse sent straight to my core

I soaked the floorboards, they’re rotting

Can’t stand the smell anymore

I’m making out with death

Every day I’m isolated

Is another baby step

To full on seduction

The way my walls cave in

Would make you think this house is haunted

And the toothpaste stains on my shirt

Would make you think that I had brushed them

My teenage years are meaningless

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse

And I can’t go outside

Without thinking I could die

My formative years are wasted

Even if the president won’t face it

And the end keeps creeping closer, I can taste it

I’ve been fighting illness

Since I was about eight years old

But it’s not physical, baby

It’s one hundred percent mental, ahh

Sometimes I think I would rather catch the virus itself

Than leave my emotional health to rot on the shelf

I’m making out with death

Every day I’m isolated

Is another baby step

To full on seduction

The way my walls cave in

Would make you think this house is haunted

And the toothpaste stains on my shirt

Would make you think that I had brushed them

My teenage years are meaningless

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse

And I can’t go outside

Without thinking I could die

My formative years are wasted

Even if the president won’t face it

And the end keeps creeping closer, I can taste it

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (I'm making out with death)

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

(Every day I’m isolated)

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (Is another baby step)

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

(To full on seduction)

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (The way my walls cave in)

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

(Would make you think this house is

haunted)

My bones are dry, my lungs are weak (And the toothpaste stains on my shirt)

But my brain is dead, would I feel a thing?

(Would make you think that I had

brushed them)

My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (I'm

making out with death)

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,

would I feel a thing?) (Every day I’m isolated)

My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (Is

another baby step)

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,

would I feel a thing?) (To full on seduction)

My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (The way

my walls cave in)

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead,

would I feel a thing?) (Would make you think this house is haunted)

My teenage years are meaningless (My bones are dry, my lungs are weak) (And the

toothpaste stains on my shirt)

For God’s sake, we’re living in the apocalypse (But my brain is dead) (Would

make you think that I had-)