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letra de menthol bread - handsome failure

dph and lsd
psilocybin and mescaline
dmt and dxm
i don’t have a problem
i just want my mind to be open

datura and absinthe
are things that i f-cked with
do four hits of acid
then go out and eat thirty three benadryl

and i wonder why now in my twenties
i can’t even come up with a halfly
put together thought (richard nixon?)
and my words are f-cked up
my grammar is broken
sometimes (i never didn’t do the thing)
i have trouble even speaking at all
f-ck

(i mean salvia’s not inhe- uh what)
(what do you mean i’m in an olive garden)

and let’s not get started on the ketamine
the mdma or the ecstasy
let’s not get started on any of that
cause we’ll be here for awhile
(no! i never once said anything about that, wait, maybe i did)
or the xanax and klonopin
baclofen and vicodin
vyvanse and adderall
and everything in-between
i know i’ve had a problem in my past
but now i’m sober and i cannot put words together
eloquently anymore
(uh no i mean, uuuh si-si-silben, oh f-ck uhh, uhh the grapes?)
homemade moonshine, homemade red wine
and you know i smoked the weed
(uhh i have a headache)
but ow my lungs are f-cked up
all thanks to somethin’ n0body’s heard about
it’s called covid-19 (-coughs-)
now i can’t even partic-p-te
in the one that’s socially acceptable
(just take me to the gas station)
and drinkin’ makes me violent (-gun c-cks-)
so i don’t get involved with that anymore
oh i feel a bit like a husk (what makes the pasta amish?)
cause i have no mushrooms
and no little piece of paper on my tongue
i’m just kidding
i always felt this empty
and people keep congratulating me
“i’m proud of you vigo for getting sober”
and i say
uh well y’know su- well uh, uh, uh olive garden and ikea well uhm i uh you uh fifteen size shoe doc marten uuhhh fourteen mcdoubles”
(shaquille o’neal owns pizza hut? uh pa-papa john… jim?”

i’m f-ckin’ fried
outta my mind
i shouldn’t have drank that bottle of robitussin
with my friends when i was still
in high-school (you guys see that f-ckin’ skeleton too right)
doin’ benadryl
and other over the counter substances
with the purpose of escaping the pain
i felt in side, regularly
(you mean, the two for one doesn’t cover f-ckin’ meclizine)
smokin’ cigarettes with shadow people
while the floor turns to mud (oh no, god no, please god no)
oh dear god help me
there’s spiders in my blood (get em the f-ck out of me right now)
let me take a fat hit of salvia to my lungs (bweoooh)
and i’ll chase it down with a poorly laced blunt
(what’s in this, f-ckin’ drain cleaner?)

you know, my mom says i have potential i’ve wasted
heh, the only thing i’ve wasted is braincells

- handsome failure

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