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Vacant Stare - Prognosis Lyrics

Prognosis Song Lyrics
Prognosis 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 its 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 f**ked up world
You either choose to last or end up on your arse

Well God knows that I wish for world piece
Life deceased
How did it ever come to this
With nothing ventured and nothing gained
f**k 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 f**k where the f**k 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 f**k when everything has gone
Some motherf**ker 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 f**k where the f**k are we lead
I'll tell you where, in different directions
Oh corrections

Above all I'm alive I'm sain
With a cross hair eye I will try to aim

Stupid motherf**ker could have been my f**king bother
Then I'd have to f**king love you and you'd f**king 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 f**k
have you done
to yourself
GOD?

What God?
What God?
What God?
f**k gods!

Above all I'm alive I'm sain
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