Introvert’s Song
Music: Exhumathor, Lyrics: Nekrozaurus |
No place to go six feet under
No gods to tear you asunder
No sins to void under steeples
Hell is just other people
No way to find your redemption
Ain’t no escape, no exemption
Stuck like a fly in a treacle
Hell is just other people
No price to pay
No judgment day
You in my cell
Is real hell
I’m in the street — I’m surrounded
Each day a battle encountered
Degrading little by little
Hell is just other people
I’m going mad, I am psycho
The Norman Bates of your nightmares
Crushed in a cognitive brittle
Hell is just other people
But one day I sure will find a way out
Take my glock and blow my fucking brains out
I will have to see your stupid sad ass
Never again
No one there to meet and get on my nerves
No small talk, no social network service
No mobile phones, no doorbells ringing
Ever again
I’m dead — I lie in a coffin
But hey — you gotta be scoffing
Why did you come to the service?
Can you not leave me at peace?
And late at night I hear scratching
The cemetery be hatching
My undead neighbors are coming
Hell is just other zombies
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