Deadbeat

[Intro]
Help I've fallen and I can't grow up
Mr. DeMile where is my close up?
Dear old friends say to me "we'll catch up"
As I mix cyanide in my coffee cup
My brains dead weight, I lost it in Boston
Never alcoholic but addictions exhausting
I'd rather take a Percocet and fuck an undergraduate
Well hey who's that? The homeless journalist

[Verse 1]
Used and abused like my ex did casually
Fentanyl blue dreams
Drunk anniversaries
Hit me in the face
I finally felt close to her
Modern Jan Levinson with much smaller tits
Ball so hard mother fuckers try to find me
South Korean pussy soaked BPD misery
Singing in a minor key
Assaulting a batteries
She blocked me on twitter
But her handle still mentions me
Yeah

[Verse 2]
I'm a Deckard broken record
Running blades over apple pie
Praying like a shepherd
I'm just gunning for a chance to go back to true romance
But the bong is in my hand
And they've got Quentin on demand so

[Outro]
I think I'll live like a deadbeat
I think i'll love like a deadbeat
I think i'll lie like a deadbeat
I'm flying high like a deadbeat
It's boring being sober
It's boring being sober
I try to keep composure
But it's boring being sober
(Help I've fallen and I can't grow up)
(Help I've fallen and I can't grow up)