In the Pit of the Stomach

He died alone. He died on impact. And all this talk of death, Has really brightened up my week. And the smell of sweat, Really helps me sleep. We act alone. We act on impulse. And all this talk of death, Has really brightened up my week. And the smel

I have torn through the pages of the years I have wasted And I've stolen all my stories, that I've copied and pasted Is this about me now? Still about me now I fought in an army that only fights boredom And I've caught all my allies who were only the