Snakes In the Grass

I thought I was pretty numb, but some s%$# stings. I'm a peice of s^%$ swarmed by snakes in the grass People don't ask, because they seen the facts. Can't hold down **** with the opposite sex. It's like the daily, 50 missed calls from people who would normally hate me. I'm my own gravedigger I've paved the way to make it bigger So I could drop down hope with my corpse I was made to live by force. And who can afford? A life big enough to sustain our obsessions fillin up And maybe addiction And maybe in prison. More bars than 50 with rhythm At the end of the day You have yourself to face A body tormented by the cells it makes. And every time you go to hell it takes One moral from your conscience They ring a bell and say. "It's the new coming sinner Who has Hell to pay."