The Life in Rhymes of an Angsty Teenager

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Lay In the Bed You Have Made

Start the countdown, come on let's go.

Friends of friends come enjoy the show.

Hit the bass drum, begin the sound.

They start chanting, all around.

The crowd likes to feed off of our pain.

I hear someone else scream my name.

We make noises in a tribal way.

Tribal instincts save the day.

Here we go for another round.

Adrenaline keeps me off the ground.

Fists of steel make contact with bone.

I'll make you feel like you should run home.

Crying to mommy that you got hurt.

Not so tough now, laying in the dirt.

Wishing we could rest in the hands of time.

But violence rolls on with every line.

Bring in the chorus and draw some blood.

Suck it up; let it run in the mud.

The mass of people cheer when they see red.

A sly smirk crosses your face despite your spinning head.

You throw a punch and I swing back.

We keep in time to the rhythm and I pick up the slack.

The battle rages on, when will it end?

Remember when we once were friends?

Keeps your friends close, enemies closer.

Never thought people would see the true you, exposure.

One final hit and it looks like I've won.

What do you mean friendship? What's done is done.

While you're down there, I hope you get a good taste of rock bottom.

If sides mattered this crowd would be mine, I got 'em.

Maybe now you realize the consequences.

To your actions, and come to your senses.

It started off as you and me; you are now against every other.

You are against the world; at this point you can no longer take cover.

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