Stuck to the dog, pissin' out both ends
I got a hundred lethal weapons that I call my friends
Ain't a person on Earth who could take my life
I wish they would so a man could get some sleep at night
But my design is a mixture of descent and decay
I see a monster in the mirror fucking everyday
Can a man ever wash his hands of blood?
Perpetual deja vu, isn't that enough?
Peel back the layers... and see what I've become
Satisfied? Now I feel nothing
Stay away - I swear it wasn't me!
See if you can relish if you close both eyes
Every time I make an issue of it, someone dies
Carried out like a hit man, set in stone
Don't know why I even bother to be left alone
In my opinion, it's a self-serving fucked-up phase