This is a song about "Empty dreams"

A keen fiend with obscene dreams

Cause after all the lights and screams

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Like a balloon...she's empty

The twin towers fell

Then sit empty in hell

It ain't nothing to me, i’m who they coming to see

I'm fucking fed up with my pockets being empty

Profit it's a empty closet

So, i’m on some 40 days and night shit

Sometimes you go stores and buy everything that you see

At least superficially make the conversation less empty

Cause it doesn't seem really as simple

No patience, like a empty hospital

All that ass in your jeans

Welcome to our dreams