Picking at Hives

Where the fuck is my soul?
Where the fuck is my soul at, man?
This is torture, this is the definition of fucking torture, man
Where the fuck is it?
I’m empty inside
I’m empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
I’m empty inside, I’m empty inside, I’m empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
This spell that I’m sold on — contemptuous pride?
I’ve delved into prolonging prevention of mine
I’ve shelved any growth — only picking at hives
If I felt any closer, I’d be a prick in a side
On the shelves with a poster, was my vision of life
The best of my hopes were that I’d live without lies
Impressed with the scope of what I didn’t apply
So this is the moment when I twitch and revive
The critical closing of my pitiful tripe
It’s piss overflowing — I see fish swimming by
I’m dripping with soul, but shit, I’m just getting by
I’ll trip in a hole and just sit there and die
Cause this was the whole plan but it didn’t fly
I’m pissed like an old man, and crippled alike
But a bitch doesn’t hold hands, just ripped up inside
Now I’m kicking a gold can, with a step and it’s right
And I’m spitting this slow jam, with intentions so bright
Betting the whole damn, and I’m clenching so tight
Don’t mention it though man, no pension in sight
So where the hell has my soul gone?
Where the hell has my soul gone?
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
Empty inside, empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone?
Well I just better hold on
Where the hell has my soul gone?
Where the hell has my soul gone?
Where the hell has my soul gone? I’m empty inside
I’m empty inside, I’m empty inside
Where the hell has my soul gone?
Well I just better hold on