Wineskin Gao the Arsonist

What now?
I'm hearing crickets as my response
Eyes closed with only a ticking rhythm
My wrist watch
Tick tock
Seconds sliding past I feel it rip 'cross
The list of things I have left that I can live off
Thrift shop for shabby shit that I use to get off on a high
Or get off from a high place to kiss 'walks
Fill my pockets with mockeries of a purpose I'm still searching for
Working cog turn in the machine, I'm tryna chew the circuit board
Maybe I'll digest some information
I need reasons to keep breathing I mean there's oxygen I'm wasting
What's gunpowder and a touted strap without the bullet casings
Nigga, count up all the uses, 'part from dousing it in flames
I'm a fountain in the rain, nigga
Directions when they routed out a maze
Couple thousand in safe
Money left out in a raid
Hands bound, clock wound back every hour of the day
Known placebo for the pain, nigga

What the fuck a wineskin without grapes on a grape vine
All that's built wilts, shrivels up with out a trace
Dry
If life's purpose as worthless as it feels, take mine
Where's the fucking sanctity in waking up to chase highs
What the fuck a wineskin without grapes on a grape vine
All that's built wilts, shrivels up with out a trace
Dry
If life's purpose as worthless as it feel, take mine
Where's the fucking sanctity in waking up