kill it if it feels right
I don’t have the luxury
I don’t have a flesh cushion
waiting for me
my luxury is self-efficacy
nobody scurries to justify me
kill it without motive, with a scoff
your limbs grow back
when you cut them off
I can’t afford the burial costs
I’ve got no excuses
I pay for my exhaust
if it feels right x8
your body is sturdy
you’re not like a child
your eyes, they dim
and usher out bile
kill it like an infant
kill it with your might
you got no excuses
and you ain’t got all night