don’t care anymore—no. I just don’t care anymore, no. They tell me how to live—how to bend— but every day gnaws harder at my bones. I don’t care anymore. [Verse 1: Bleeding Road] I walk this road like a shadow bleeding awake. Refuse the words shoved down my throat; I no longer care for what I’m told I need. I’m hollow, stomach gnawing at nothing—I don’t care for hate. Empty since the first pulse of fate… lost in the decay of my mind. Pills drown the static in my skull— but dreams claw through, splintering bone and thought, I see the world through hollow eyes. I don’t care anymore. [Verse 2: Rotting Gold] Thoughts ferment beneath my ribs, hissing when silence creeps close. The world bows to gold, smiles hiding rusted teeth behind velvet masks. Influencers parade in decay, never knowing frostbite in lungs, never whispering to empty corners for crumbs. Thunder pounds their doors— they clutch coins, sleep through storms. Fake rats in dead-cat fur—mockery of survival. Never shivered at dawn, never prayed while lightning ripped homes. I don’t care anymore. My heart drifts far—beyond touch, beyond sense. It rests in a mountain humming beneath the earth; inside, a black lake; on the lake, an island; on the island, a church abandoned to shadow. Words crawl from my tongue like insects, biting walls of bone for warmth. I don’t whisper anymore. They carve me—bone by bone—into their perfect mistake. Each word they poison drips venom, and I drink it, because venom tastes like truth. I don’t care anymore. The water hums through nerves I’ve slit. My throat bleeds for dreams that never rise. Heaven’s last candle flickers in apathy’s wind. I cough up truth—greasy, raw. I don’t forgive—I unmake; I unravel the net of this world. At least I found a way. I speak from my broken mind. Twisted letters, sideways thoughts— finally, someone hears. I don’t care anymore. [Verse 3: Cathedral of Bones] My heart sleeps in a cathedral of bones, beneath a mountain humming in darkness. Inside—an ink-black lake; on it—an island; on that island—a tree twisted, clawing at a sky that refuses to shine. Air fractures when I speak. Words crawl like spiders, sticking to my skull. I scream into mirrors they shattered and abandoned. I am carved by shadows— each cut a verse, each scar a chorus. Venom drips from lies fed to me. I drink it—sweet as poison. Wind hums funeral hymns across my nerves. Throat bleeds for dreams that never wake. I cough ash and fire. I dismantle—I unthread the world stitch by stitch. Noo… I don’t care anymore. Dreams dissolve like smoke in a vacuum. Yet my voice gnaws the chains apart. I see the hands that made this world— clawed, scarred, trading bones for sunlight. When the sun dies, its memory burns in hollow lungs of ghosts. This darkness— both cradle and tomb. I am the one who walks it, where beginnings choke and endings breathe. No match, no spark. The Devil bends lust into knives carving the soul. Time forgets itself here. I know too much, and I still hunger for love’s impossible warmth. God and the Devil whisper through cracks in my skull, and I answer in venomous tongues. I don’t care anymore. [Hook: Abyssal Psychosis] I don’t care anymore—no, the walls gnaw at my skin. I don’t care anymore, yo—the floor drinks my blood. Every shadow hammers nails through my chest, every heartbeat cracks my ribs like dry wood. I don’t care anymore— the mirrors split and bleed my face, and I answer with the last pieces of myself. I don’t care anymore.
