Testo Bent To Perfection The Deadbeat Decade
So pack your bags weâre going on a guilt trip. Youâre not so innocent, but donât tell me. Your new voice has got that tinge of bitterness. The ghosts of hope have vanished. Donât tell me that youâve changed. I can see it in your face. As it ends, my life begins. Iâm staying bent. A blind manâs dream, our final scene. Iâm on my way, take me there faster. So hop on, Iâm going on my ego trip. No more fucking commitment. Heâs got a Lexus, thatâs quite impressive. I look away but then the stains of yesterday cloud my mind and I say: âIâm sorry for living for that perfect feeling.â Iâm fine, so sublime and dry-eyed.
My bent life.