This is a song about "Trauma"

And the moon looking beautiful as ever

You gonna find ya self in the trauma center,

Well, i don't know, maybe you had some childhood trauma trip,

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

Forever i ain't run yet and i never will

Trauma on my mental, as well as my physical

Only suffered threw trauma couldnt fast forward or take a break with a comma,

There i was kneeling on the ground, felt like i was being drowned, and at the

On award tour, on excursions, i'm a virgin of swap meets

Filled with repressed trauma subconscious reaching out to me in my dreams

Room service, the moon been worthless once apparent to your aura

It's spectacular; my lyrics are causing blunt-force trauma.