What comes around
Must go around.
But karma isn't it's only friend.
When you dig yourself a hole to lay your troubles
That certain hole becomes a home.
What comes around will come around again and again, repeating endlessly.
You'll watch your bad karma bounce off of the walls until it's no longer karma.
It's now every bad decision you've ever made scrambled into bits and pieces.
This ball of bad energy that haunts me, is unstoppable for I live in a circle home.
This hole I dug myself into, is endless.
Can't tell where it begins and where it stops.
I can't escape,
It can't either.
So I lay in my circle home that tortures me day after day
Only hearing echos of what could have been
If I didn't dig my grave.
