Low Places - Detached lyrics

Rise and fall with the faults and the problems Tame the beasts with addiction and pleas Recognize the end and draw some conclusions No gods, no masters, no hope, no peace Seven days, its a weeks discomfort Selling my soul for a fix of relief I stay cursed with bad luck and misfortune I am dead weight, a burden, a disease As for fulfillment I'm lacking the feeling Though my heart beats drum rolls I fear the well being Grim, bleak nights Polluted minds for this season The end is coming There's no healing these lesions Things just will not click I am always sick