I had to do the research
Clay hands
And a white heart on your t-shirt
You smell of blood alcohol
Hair made of dark clouds
Chopping up the remains to sell it small
Now cancer like an infected tooth
Hopped up on gasoline
Accidentally shot Lincoln when I was aiming for Booth
Built a factory of birdshot
Threw my exes sideways
Got all my i's crossed
This neighborhood is a ghost town
With strange phantom noises
I'm the only one dying in this house now
Dropped my first name like a spark plug
Leaking out syrup
White scratches around the wrist indicating self-love
I'm not trying to be simple
I explain through tin can phones
Like putting a gun up to my temple
There's something wrong with my armor
This is a hiding place for rats
Looking for a new needle to harm her
I'm pacing the room
I stand and I sit
I'll crash the highway soon
Like I'm fighting with fire
Electricity in my heart
Running on three flat tires
And then the weight loss
The painted smile
My emotions have gone soft
I can't conjure a proper verb
Adjectives are slippery
Shouting even though I've run out of words
I'm nailing myself to the gunshot
Nine steel jackets
Can shoot me five times in the same spot
I'm gonna throw a party and not invite anyone
I'm gonna shoot pencil lead
I'm gonna plan my funeral then get the job done
It looks like I brought a pen to a gunfight
My happiest stories are all fiction
I shoot myself with you and they say it's all right