This is a song about "The giver"

The name of the game is

And i can't help but notice

And your bitch is the type of bitch who really wanna lose

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

In the face of the outside.

But there's nothing else inside

I put these poems all in these songs

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

Cause all i want is you, baby

The fiends supply the shady

I know i'm not the only bastard in america

So call the coroner or the mortician for the the

I'm the client you're the broker/

I'm gettin discouraged with her