Matthew Joseph Andel - Heavy Breathing Down My Own Neck lyrics

I was smoking yet another 'final cigarette' when it came to me... The idea of a lifetime... - I'll shoot myself - It's perfect, Splendid, Opulent, yet within my minds breath. I am a hop, skip and jump away from suicide, I inch closer by each fading day, But I can't stop myself from asking myself... Am I taking back my natured potential or giving it up indefinitely? Sometimes I see that they are simultaneously coexisting... Give and take, Up and down, Tomorrow and Yesterday, the same as, d**h and Life. Maybe Rockefeller had it right... If money it is, then money it is It'll be no other way! It will be no other way. What a deserted hand-me-down, Cultured Society. It comes off as a sort of wicked institution to unburdened eyes. I fail to put my finger on it but I know it's there, I feel it's cold warmth, I feel it's organic atmosphere. I feel it too much and when given permission to access, I blunder. Jesus, I won't even k** myself. The world sits atop a vortex of doubt and I just can't knock it off. I can't press myself to it. I belong to the stars, where the tremors are unshakable and the mirrors are endless... Bounded by hope at this point. I wish I was able to do it while unconscious, Could I die in my sleep? Maybe someone will help and shoot me while I dream. Maybe someone will inherit my freight as I pa** forward... If only I was so lucky, Or some other Soul unlucky alike? Leaning against a brick wall as hard as my discontinued merit for existence, Thinking a spindle of possessed thoughts... Smoking, yet again, my last cigarette. Would the morning miss me? Would Hell be as bad as Heaven? Was I right, and are we here already? Does the act even exist, if the result of the act is the actor ceasing to exist? Questions, questions Questions, always more and more questions. A glance to the sky, more and more questions. Never answers. Nope, no answers. Not nearly a spotlight on a dust spec of truth, or a curtain peek into the mind of the absolute. Will sideways still be sideways? More questions, More questions. I've realized that the forever connecting of matter gives life the attributes of a perspective that no longer matters. So my saddened depression will continue. Or will it? More questions, more questions. Always more and more questions. After lighting my very last cigarette on Earth, another thought rang through the halls of my exhilarated head... - I guess I'll covet the little sovereignty I do contain and refute the objections of my current pace - I need more cigarettes. Back to the corner store I go removing myself from the broad wall of contemplation.