Crucified to my past life Be my blue suicide Self-esteem makes little sense Primitive and malcontent I guess a smile Has it's place But there's a skull Under my face It's in control I do what I'm told. Lovers in self-denial Fucking execution style Drown the summer, burn the beach Going under, drinking bleach Can you stay legit And keep it real While your hunger begs You for mass appeal So you can hide From what time won't heal