It's a beautiful day to feel insane   And concuss yourself against a wall   and On the day that it comes to be   you have no friends to make you free      Scenes of days weeks and shames they pass   And you know that you're a fucking mess   Forced to replay everything that went on   Alone, in your bed, no comfort from the one      and the empty vessel is placed at the foot   you could fill it with memories puked out   forced like a young child to labour   brainwashed into thinking they'd win god's favour      vomit out memories of pretty blonde girls   vomit out memories of indulgence in classrooms   vomit out memories of guilty thoughts unclean   of those you wished would want to be treated mean   vomit out memories of non-bloods and guys   vomit out a one-track pornographer's brain   vomit out conversations with the only one who listens   and memories of wounds that felt right to glisten      vomit out the times you pulled at your hair   vomit out distaste for the ones you claim to love   Finally, vomit your worst self-provoked path to doom   into an overflowing vessel, now fills the whole room      vomiting begets more vomiting   vomiting begets more vomiting   secrets beget more vomiting   vomiting begets more secrets