A Day Trip to the Nightosphere

I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere

But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear

Those brush strokes, so messy

There must be some way out of here

Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares

I opened up my third eye for an entire light year

I live wrong, you dead right

I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork,

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?

In California on tour I happened to lose my soul patch

Among those with ornate bobbles on their snapbacks

Passwords were spoken, talismans and tokens

Grip handsigns in motion, battlements were broken

I scream Hellfyre until my lungs collapse in their own poison

It's risky business, you're picking a fight with Ricky Fitness

Now I've found my courage to walk up in those dark places

Now I've found my courage to talk to those with shark faces

I've known the buzz of anxieties

Bury me in rap money only to watch me practice piety

I don't worship crystals and I don't dabble in secret societies

With hidden lords and Ouija boards

I used to get paid to squeegee floors

How dare you ask for more

At the intersection of task and bore

Where better is the enemy of

And I swear to God I'm good enough

And I swear to God I'm good enough

And I swear to God I'm good enough

I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere

But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear

Those brush strokes, so messy

There must be some way out of here

Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares

I opened up my third eye for an entire light year

I live wrong, you dead right

I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork,

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

You don't need to run away

I can see the ugly portraits painted in nightosphere

But I was not an art major so I stay silent out of fear

Those brush strokes, so messy

There must be some way out of here

Those expressionistic paintings, they paint me in my nightmares

I opened up my third eye for an entire light year

I live wrong, you dead right

I've never been on that website with the Pitchfork,

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?

I'm dead right?