ugly couch from sketches iii by braydon curry

help me out of this hell, i feel so broken at home, im growing lost and alone and im a shell of myself. tell me im not enough, throw me under the rug, leave me covered in blood just like i see in my dreams. im everything that i seem to whoever chooses to see. the given end to my ends, basically amenities. i made an enemy when i was seventeen, the wagon i fell off when i was riding on top. i spiraled too fast to stop, can't say im sorry enough, im finally giving it up, i swear i swore off the ****** im getting where you can trust, im sleeping straight through the night, im just now getting it right, im far too happy to fight - NEVER TELL ME THE ODDS DONT BET ON ME. EVERY WORD THAT I SING MAKES YOU ANGRY. IM READY TO FALL BACK ON MY UPSWING. FELL IN LOVE ONCE BUT NOW IM KING- no parachute for my fall, ill run till im forced to crawl, a struggle then to a halt, just good for rambling on, my captive audience gone, running straight out of space wasting another page, spilling all of my rage, a batter without a cage, another goat just to scape, hoping this dies on a tape, electromagnetic archive, walking curse still alive, constantly fighting back cries, ptsd when i drive, just a joke to the guys, became a running joke, hold me dearly i choke, trust me on this i know, my life is moving too slow, my brain is moving too fast-

• Alternative
• acoustic
• indie rock
• punk
• North Carolina