God's Busy

When it's over it's over
Like I'm over being sober
Sick of terrible times
Licking in-between labias
I got half a mind to sign dotted lines
Sell my soul to Satan
Fuck you God
Where you been when I  needed ya
Long nights I hated life
Wished for death
So lucky suicides so hard to do
Just holding your breath
Ironically i wish
I could find something to leave me breathless
Maybe the best is 
Yet to come
Life's a fucking amalgam 
Voices in the wind sound like 
Auto-tune 
Hope I'm not broke till June
Looks like rain
My luck it's a monsoon