imagination almost killed me

i left that stench behind, i left that filth behind

im never gonna take another sip of your poison

i remember how i lived in your piles of crap

like we were on some great adventure

i would sift through for years hoping to find something worth keeping

i made gems from trash

and even now sometimes i think i almost found something worth keeping

but then i realize thats just remnants of the craziness you poisoned me with

the misery you shoved down my throat

we lived in a landfill

i will never stay in that again, unless my dead body is carried there

its hard when your addicted to the poison

but somehow i found the partial remedy for the poison of no recovery

i still get pangs of withdrawal, the damage will plague me to the grave

i know better now, but its hard

my imagination tends to take over, but now i know

ill save my fantasy goggles and diamond in the rough digging gear for another place

im never returning to your cave

the stench is suffocating, there is the smell of disgust, lies, manipulation, and betrayal

i must have picked up the wrong map that led me to you

ill do anything to stay away from your filth and your disease