i wrote this at a christmas party - seth bennett lyrics
[verse 1]
hiding in a corner, showing n0body my face
everybody’s realising that i’m just a disgrace
i f*ck with their heads, they f*ck with mine back
the logic people follow makes me feel like i’m wack
at the end of the day, it’s all just words
so why do i get yelled at whenever i say f*
now i’m sitting with my guitar, repeating the same three chords
when i try to branch out, my roots find a way to get stuck
[chorus]
suicide sundays get harder every holiday
everybody’s happy while i’m slowly k!lling my brain
it sucks, i might as well start digging my own grave
cause i’m not gonna try to live through another dеpressing day
dad died, evеrything’s been sh*t since that happened
it was supposed to be the same as every other weekend
now here i am, slowly coming to depend
on the demons in my closet and everything that they’ve ever said
[verse 2]
i’m done with repeating every self*deprecating truth when no one listens to me
i might as well start hanging from the branches of a dead tree
i can’t cope, can’t choke, can’t hope for my life to get any better
i’ve got no more respect for anyone who lies about my values
get the f*ck out of my life, my minds started to go bitter
my minds just a battle field filled with dreams i can’t help but abuse
[chorus]
suicide sundays get harder every holiday
everybody’s happy while i’m slowly k!lling my brain
it sucks, i might as well start digging my own grave
cause i’m not gonna try to live through another depressing day
dad died, everything’s been sh*t since that happened
it was supposed to be the same as every other weekend
now here i am, slowly coming to depend
on the demons in my closet and everything that they’ve ever said
[verse 3]
sorry that i’m not sorry, i just can’t give a f*ck
why can’t you just realise that i’ve gone through enough?
i’m scatter*brained, and it feels like times wasting
i’m still stuck in my pit of self*deprecation
dad, can you hear me?
dad, would you hate me?
i’ve turned into everything you despised
something that can’t look his own mother in the eyes
i’m something worse than a demon, i’ve fallen further than h*ll
i’m still hanging by a thread, guess it’s better than a rope
and if you ask how i’m feeling and actually need me to tell
then i’ll look you in the eyes and say that i’m still filled with hope
[chorus]
suicide sundays get harder every holiday
everybody’s happy while i’m slowly k!lling my brain
it sucks, i might as well start digging my own grave
cause i’m not gonna try to live through another depressing day
dad died, everything’s been sh*t since that happened
it was supposed to be the same as every other weekend
now here i am, slowly coming to depend
on the demons in my closet and everything that they’ve ever said
[outro]
stop comparing me to my dad
why waste your breath on something like that?
nineteenth of july, twenty*nineteen
since then what’s the point to keep on living?
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