Drugs, Pt. 2

Dead space
On the floor in my room
Even the internet seems boring
Now that I’ve got you
Lack of common sense
I just stay in bed
God’s hanging from the ceiling fan
Devil’s laying on the floor
When you tell me you’re ok
I don’t believe you anymore
Cold hands
Stashing pot inside a soda can
There’s you and then there’s me
High as shit in the living room watching the tv
You asked me if I was lonely
Well I don’t think I’m anything
So when I say it’s all ok
I hope you don’t believe me