I remember last December and November
When September ended
I could pretend that you were my best friend
But the winter and the summer feel the same to me
I'm just number than a number I'm insane for free
And I got a fifty-one, fifty-o, Tommy fifty-two
I'm 24 years old
But I got locked up for one month and I got fucked up bad
They shot me full of tranquilizers, am I dead
Barely even fucking called, he didn't even say
That Winona died I couldn't even pray or actually be okay
Cause I'm laying in my bed trying to mourn
(?)
But I'm frozen cause the air is blasting
And I can not turn it off and I am mad about it
And the motherfuckers climbing up the fucking ladder
(?)
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey