Flesh like gods ash tray

A head full of bees

Can we stop pretending

We're okay always, please?

I've got this theory

About a disease

If it keeps reproducing

My worlds gonna seize

We've gotta admit

When we're just not alright

So please stop acting

As if its not a burden, I mean like

We're supposed to be open

About the shit in our heads

But when your body's revolting

And you just wanna be dead

People grimace at you

Disturbed by what you said

How am i supposed to get this off my chest

Humans are fragile

Bones of soft lead

They bend under pressure

Flesh like gods ash tray

Made of paper instead

So pry at your pleasure

And sever the head