"Real Horror Show" lyrics

My execution date is set
And I've been holding my breath since then
In seven years or probably less
Find high ground, just let it pass

And I'm treading water
With my head above sea level
Recycle all the same words
Wait for something to stick
(It makes me feel sick)
I try to find stillness
But peace feels fuckin' mental
Reading the news, doom scroll
And something still doesn't click
(More than I'd like to admit)
So fuck my feelings
They're not worth it

Morning routine, brew up bullshit
Caffeine and Benzos, kid, you got this
They'll pry your eyes open 'til they bleed
But they don't want you to see
No, they don't want you to see

And I'm floating past you
Belly up, no life preserver
Doing the backstroke through tent city
I win the race (Yeah, I'm still a head case)
And you think it's fucked up
Idly as an observer
Best of two evils, you could die or participate
(And neither sounds great)
So fuck my feelings
Checkmate

Walking through Bushwick on the phone with psychiatrists
Maybe my will to live is blind ultra violence
But I still feel a sense of anxious compliance
Sell out for some clout or risk dying a nihilist