Have you ever had the temperament, you meant what you said
But then you pen it in a letter you regret when it's sent?
It's penance for your pentagram, motor mouth, minute mile
Upload it to Instagram, pretend that you can decompile
Flowing free as your speech, so you drink it up
Nobody wants it or needs it but you just can't deduct
Any second now, tumble down, house of cards
Loneliness is brokered and you know you're not a star
1, 2, feeling fine. 3, 4, give me more
Then you mourn what wasn't yours until your heart is warped and sore
And you never know when, it all happens too fast
Like you're driving a Ferrari that's destined to crash
"Go by how you feel, there's no need to count"
Hit a magic number, though, and then I'm down and out
And I don't mean the vomit, although it takes a village
It's the declining of the mind, a different kind of spillage

Flop, stop, drop, roll
Of course you're having fun, but it's taking its toll
Go to sleep, think it over... maybe not
Place emotion in a box and then send it all to the chopping block
You don't know what you're drowning, so you tend to detach
Internal fire isn't drenched, light a match
Flame high, burn it to dust, turn to disgust
Carve out a symbol you can take from the rust

Record the scenes, import it on screens
Question the record, why does the end defy the means?
Return to your previous genes, as a demonic child
Write an archive for your friends, Johnny Mnemonic style
And while you might forget, know that they never will
And while they might also forgive, know that you severed still
It's the important antecedent to rips in the sheets
The kind of secrets that you wish you only spit on beats
What kind of secrets, though, you don't know what they are
At the bar, feeling charged, so you tear up your scars
And that's when you make it yet another excuse
For you to pour it out and chug more juice
Of course you don't want to believe it
So you express all your feelings inside of piles of diseased spit
And if you ever want to give it all up
Just make damn sure to empty your cup

Flop, stop, drop, roll
Of course you're having fun, but it's taking its toll
Go to sleep, think it over... maybe not
Place emotion in a box and then send it all to the chopping block
You don't know what you're drowning, so you tend to detach
Internal fire isn't drenched, light a match
Flame high, burn it to dust, turn to disgust
Carve out a symbol you can take from the rust