MY GOD HAS GOT A GUN

Got a trigger finger pointing straight at

My conscious, I can't fucking breathe

It stood behind you, it always finds you

Don't bother asking me to leave

Got Stockholm Syndrome, instinctive survival

I'm victim to my sanity

Living life on a tight rope, have I lost all hope?

My god has got a gun

And he works me to the bone

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

Oh yes, here to start a fucking fight

Sit back, shut up I'm terrified

The veil I wear is all a lie

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

My voices screaming, "Gonna die, you're in danger"

It's symptomatic barricades

Got a taste for addiction, I wanna feel something

That isn't pain and suffering

Got Stockholm Syndrome, instinctive survival

I'm victim to my sanity

Living life on a tight rope, have I lost all hope?

Shut the fuck up

My god has got a gun

And he works me to the bone

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

Oh yes, here to start a fucking fight

Sit back, shut up I'm terrified

The veil I wear is all a lie

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

My god has got a gun

And he works me to the bone

I don't know where to run, so I guess I'll stay?

My god has got a gun

And he works me to the bone

I don't know where to run, so I guess I'll stay?

My god has got a gun

And it works me to the bone

I don't know where to run, but don't make me stay

Take me into the dark sky

'Cause I wanna be alone

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

Oh yes, here to start a fucking fight

Sit back, shut up I'm terrified

The veil I wear is all a lie

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like

Oh yes, here to start a fucking fight

Sit back, shut up I'm terrified

The veil I wear is all a lie

Oh yes, this is what depression looks like