I'm a walking inconvenience, don't act like you can't see it
I'm a walking inconvenience, better off to the world as soon as I leave it
How far away do I have to get so you can't find me
Any time you try to get a hold of me is bad timing
You can't sneak your weak raps by me
I walk into a war zone like “how bad could some land mines be?”
Not bad enough to keep me away, you'd be better off playing the radio
But there's no chance that you would see me awake
I'm not a fan of rappers, but I'm in love with the genre
It's not a compliment when I say that they're walking insomnia
I'll keep writing; don't know if I'll ever use my notes
Mainly apologies from the life that I used to know
It's just a hobby it ain't even really selling music
I don't know what else to do, or how else to do it
I wish the best to anyone I've been connected to
You're all special, don't settle and be anyone less than you
I really want to say f** everything and disappear
And point one finger at anyone who told me “listen here”
And play every track back to them that I ever made
And watch their face as knowledge and faith separates
To those from my past and present, I use to ask God about who he would choose
Why them? Now I'm just sorry to you for who I am
I've always felt like a walking inconvenience
Maybe at the end it will all make sense and we can finally see it
I wrote a chorus for it, I never got around to
And if I would have used it, it would've went like this
The church told me that the earth was Satan's
So why would a Christian do nothing while waiting for him to be terminated
Is Satan's nature due to predestination or determination?
Predetermination, or in my estimation
Am I overestimating placement or a destination?
Based on what inevitably has come to be nevertheless the statements
I am incessantly surrounded by, regardless of steps I'm taking
Which again are irrelevant compared to the mess I'm making
This is the life I choose, that I chose
This is all that I know
And I don't know what I know
Some of us never actually live, just die slowly
Watching our back, waiting for d**h
Waiting for the day when we can proclaim that Satan is dead
Which I would like to believe now at this very moment
It's everything I see him do, it's like he's barely spoken
I have a horrible side to me underneath the skin
I open up my chest, and it just reaches in
It doesn't seem to be affected much by what I'm believing in
Speak in tongues, fighting urges, focus, I need a pen
Like, does anybody know what dialect this speech is in?
I have no ability not to repeat the sin
If there's some sort of ritual you need to do then please begin
Unless your only advice is get on my knees, repent
I've been victimized by this demon since I was 10
It will have consumed close to my whole life by the time I'm dead
The countless prayers and hours that I have spent
Don't know if he always knows where I am or I'm just really good at finding him
But there has to be something I don't see
Amidst all of this not knowing and dying slowly
I don't believe life is a rainy day with a cold breeze and the wind blowing
Still waiting for my one and only to disown me
This is the life I choose, that I chose
This is all that I know
And I don't know what I know
Some of us never actually live, just die slowly