All the fun of drilling a hole in my skull with none of the mess
Your future is hospice and IV’s
Lucky ones die young
Still life goes on, so pull this decay over my face
A small measure of comfort to get me through my golden years
Sometimes it’s what you don’t see that gets you through the night
A clinical detachment to reality
I just want some comfort
A small measure of comfort
I just want some comfort
I just want some comfort
If you prayed for a savior, God would send you Christopher Scarver
But I need something a little bit more tangible
I’m praying
I’m praying
I’m praying
I’m praying for a synthetic heaven
I’m praying for a synthetic heaven
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