Suicidal Pistol Grip Pump

Well, it must be the love, I mean, the lack thereof
The words fall off my tongue, shot like bullets and made you run
What have I become? Preaching for you to grab your gun
Put it to your head, suicidal pistol grip pump
Back again, I ain’t dead just yet
Though your absence flows like a kiss from death
Fuck all the pretense 'cause everyone gets upset
I’ve gotta get this off my chest, I can’t keep playing pretend
So this is me, this is me
Somewhat put together and still bursting at the seams
Sing it one time for each dream that I couldn’t achieve
One time, one time for all my dead friends
And everyone who spends time chasing dead ends
I won’t last forever, and when I die
I don’t give a fuck who attends 'cause I’m just a
Bitter romantic who’s self-centered antics
Made me transparent to my friends and parents
A lonely bastard birthed in a casket
Never managed to man up and move passed her
Youth by my side, .45 I keep strapped
Try and explain how I forgot how to laugh
Nobody cares, so I put myself on my back
So Doctor, answer the question that I’ve been dying to ask
What lasts forever?
Forever
Forever
Forever
Forever