I hate belts cuz they remind me of needles with orange caps
ain’t no trucker hat
ain’t no comin back
ain’t no more to that
floor collapsed
end of story
your life shoulda been novel
but more short story
courted morbidly
sorta orca whale in a sea
of simpletons
livin with addiction
they’d rather take your hand than lend you one
lock you up with violent types, then you one
nah then you done
when you run
strings tied from both sides
played against you
I hate to sense you
feelin so helpless
but ain’t no healin the hell that’s
inside yet so cold feelin below zero Celsius
been tryna climb out ever since you fell to the abyss
I felt the kiss of death, those cold lips
but I won’t go with
not now, it’s now or never
rock out at the beacon of forever 

point a shiny spike in a rusty spoon(rusty spoon)
rest your tired head on that dusty tomb(dusty tomb)
kill yourself under this lovely Kentucky moon
death touched me too soon
locked me in the living room

I hate belts cuz they remind me of needles with orange caps
remind me when it was all about scorin a pack
fuck snortin it back, aint the same endorphins in that
compared to the mighty stab
of the shiny spike
ribs on a slab
against a grimy knife
I know you feel slimy, right?
times are frieghtening
warning signs heightening
survivin like lightning
strikin twice in the same spot
those veins not without scars
fuck packing dope into sixteen bars
got six dope fiends packed into one tiny car
remember when we used to wish upon shooting stars
now you only wish to shoot stars in your arm

point a shiny spike in a rusty spoon(rusty spoon)
rest your tired head on that dusty tomb(dusty tomb)
kill yourself under this lovely Kentucky moon
death touched me too soon
locked me in the living room

Shootin stars shootin stars shootin stars
takes you so far
 so far
so far away
shootin stars shootin stars
take you so far
so far away
shootin stars
so far away
so far
away
far
away
away