Murder the man who devoured your god
For these hands like houses will protect you from the storm.
 [bad word] to my room and see all the trash I made 
Stay a while, I'm on the verge of laying it down
vagabond, and all his trash in search to find his crown

Your mind is like a candle stick, my ambitions are constantly burning out 

I'd hate to, rain on your parade, 
But everything you know is taken by this flood, 
You were blind but there's no hope
Dig a hole but there's no blood,
Who am I to pretend, who am I to [bad word] there is something less 
Than timelines and whores that drag you back to the floor, and cut your eyes out

Find me, oh Saint, I'm bending, breaking, at my knees, praying
I've exposed, this earth has taken pride in seeing my, most vulnerable state

I find no humor in letting yourself stray away, from those pictures
When they cause you to see shame in yourself, you [bad word] from your problems
But they'll follow you like a trend, 
One shot to forgetting, six shots to falling in the end

I was the king, of kings, I stand for [bad word]  and [bad word] for myself, as a man
I will fall and as my son you've watched it all

Behind every mask, lies a man, who can't live in his own skin
He lives by the flask, he bathes in his past, and he dies by his own sins