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I got demons that could sing the gospel as if heaven was the new hell
For my demons store lyrics after lyrics in these clouds I call thoughts
I can only see after smoking my insecurities & sipping on liquor known as false prophets
I don't even dream when I'm asleep cause it feels much safer when I'm awake
Living on hope while being stuck in the ghetto
Is a quicker way to die then calling 9-1-1 for help as if they gonna "help" you
At least I know my demons still shoot wishes upon the stars beyond the police sirens & crooked screams
They drink sober until they can experience what love is
Maybe then they'll get drunk to the pain of knowing Lust was that L word being misused
I got demons who constantly rage on the facts of not wanting to be the same
For my demons were once angels but was influenced by the cold system we call Life
I want my angels back, stripped from they innocence
They don't even cry no more
Just smoke another blunt and watches the world go by without a change to influence the future
My demons grow
But my demons cry out for help as they burn on my shoulders
As my demons just want those angels back
