Testo Washup

All I've ever foreseen
Is caught intertwined and in formation with self-illusion
That I'll find a way to find a way
To bleed sufficiently
Into the faces of sampled varied names

And is heaven a boring place?
Stagnant temptationless And filled with the shit we wish for
What happened to my old pen ink-laced inspiration?

And it's hard to break away
From the fantasies and the imagery of the same place
The same place that brought me some relief

And you're so easy to ruin now
And you're so easy