Mississippi Mass Choir Follow

Requesting signals or just signaling stop.
I hold my breath, I feel that sound.
Here it comes.
Here it comes now.
Head down.
Burning up, I'm ready now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I already said it.
Call back the medic.
I'm sick of feeling copacetic.
I pull it all together.
Drag my tires through the mud.
I'm picking through the pieces with my brain exploding.

Swept the night away.
Roll the car to safety.
Made the xxx mistake.
God and Jesus saves.
xxx
xxx
xxxx these revolutionary days.

The record of my time.
Plays better in rewind.
These unforgiving tired lines.
Staring at me, migraine shit-eating.
Crashing this point home now.
Out of my mouth, totally controlled.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I already said it.
Send back the medic.
I'm sick of feeling copacetic.
I pull myself together.
Drag my tires through the mud.
I'm picking through the pieces with my brain exploding.

Swept the night away.
Roll the car to safety.
Made the xxx mistake.
God and Jesus saves.
Another sweet and sickening thing.
From my open mouth, full of cavities.

The lazy morning sun will cast it's light across my shadow.
It's all I got left: now it's shit production.
When all of this is taken from me.
You can't find me, sell me, beat me, break me.
It's all in my letter to the higher ups.
Get fucked.