God's Country

You're too fucking weak to live a day in my head and you're too fucking scared to realize heaven's hell.

You live your life in a rut, with the blinds drawn shut, with your head in your hands like a shot to the gut.

Chasing a chance at the top with a smile and a wave, this city is full of fakers, this city is full of graves.

No better than the trash on the tracks, blank like concrete on the street.

I love the hate I hold.