[Verse 1] Vacant bodies, living with talking heads Zombies straight outta' the Walking Dead In a rush, stumbling over gla** they tread For answers, but settle for a drink instead An empty vessel Ghosts and cheats, they wrestle with constant stress, Till' drunk birds leave the nest, Ill from poison in their bodies with intoxicants, Spending their whole life tryna' knock the sense, That it's worthless, without meaning and no purpose Numbing their brains with chemicals on purpose, In a hope That a change will make reality hurt less, A way to lose your mind in life's illogical circus But it seems like it might be the only escape from a society that's filled with anger and hate Drown in a bottle, seems' so poetic — (We're experiencing an epidemic) Cuz' I woulda' done anything to get to that quick fix, And I lost my identity somewhere in the sick-tricks My soul has left my body and now there's a vacancy Pills inside my head and now the devil's taunting me It's a nauseating pain, it's a story of self-sustain, just conforming to be the same and exploring and can't restrain, but it's boring, it doesn't change, the endorphin's I can't contain, while it's pouring through every vein and I'm soaring, I feel insane. [Instrumental] [Verse 2] Vacant... Fill my soul with energy or Hennessy's, something to control dependency It's ending me, {witness like a hole}, my enemy It's ten-to-three rolling on the flow {of} this tendency It's heavensee, when you feel the rush The pill in me, it's k**ing me, it's building' up But I'm still in touch, and I feel the brush And God's hand, not man, but it's real enough But not real enough, cuz' now I'm left for dead With little birds spiralling around my head, tryna' stop the spread, just like my friends all fled Now leave with someone else with the things I said Now I'm deserted here, in this lonely place, Expression of another man across my face Cuz' I lost my place and I'm trapped inside Don't tell me I can't save myself, you know I've tried [Verse 3] I met an old man, with eyes that gleamed, With broken promises and faded dreams His palms told stories, hands unclean, gentle face, and a smile that beamed And as I stood by him, in my faded jeans, he told me all about the life he'd seen {He mused the part}, what it could have been if it wasn't all spent in a bottle of Lean As he painted a picture of a musky scene, His life advice had a constant theme: He said, time goes slow, in a worn out dream As life gets dimmer, the more you've seen Like watered down paint, run into the river, Falls off-beat but the flow gets thicker; Drinking up in flint, make that poor boy sicker The buzz comes slow but the brush hits quicker [Instrumental] [End]