Prognosis Lyrics & Chords By Vacant Stare

Up to now Gods been good to me
Sad to see
Born into a place I don't want to be
As I grow so does disgust
When I die it's long after my trust
With the demons on my back
You gotta take the line, you gotta feel the slack
Cause no ones ever perfect in this fucked up world
You either choose to last or end up on your arse
Well God knows that I wish for world peace
Life deceased
How did it ever come to this
With nothing ventured and nothing gained
Fuck me man it was done in vain
Well all my life I've been fed, fed, fed, fed
With everything my mother said, said, said, said
So who the fuck where the fuck are we lead
I'll tell you where, in different directions
Oh correction
Above all I'm alive I'm sane
With a cross hair eye I will try to aim
Well now there's questions that need to be answered
Hatred passed you stupid little bastard
Another body chucked with a hundred
Another leader has blundered
With all the evol in control
You got to take the reigns
You got to show them all
Listen to the heartbeat
Of an unborn baby and you will see
Just maybe
That as a person you are totally unaffected
By all the things that seem to get connected
And oh fuck when everything has gone
Some motherfucker should see that he was wrong
Well all my life I've been fed, fed, fed, fed
With everything my mother said, said, said, said
So who the fuck where the fuck are we lead
I'll tell you where, in different directions
Oh corrections
Above all I'm alive I'm sane
With a cross hair eye I will try to aim
Stupid motherfucker could have been my fucking bother
Then I'd have to fucking love you
And you'd fucking love you back
Will you ever notice just a little grain of sugar
Dissolve in sandy water when you should have notice sooner
I hate you
For all the hate
That you fed
That's now led
What the fuck
Have you done
to yourself
GOD?
What God?
What God?
What God?
Fuck gods!
Above all I'm alive I'm saen
With a cross hair eye I will try to aim
Demons come in familiar forms and tastes
Why so sad?
We're all on the same track, track, track, track