The day is gloomy and so is my heart, which is being torn in two.
Never escaping the depression that holds me in chains.

The weight of the world weighing me down like quick sand
pulling its victim into its murky bottom.

I feel the Grim Reapers hot breath breathing down the back of my neck,
awaiting for me to make my greatest folly so that he may take
me to the pits of hell where I belong.

Cursed am I from the day I was born and
cursed is the place in which I grew up in.

The devil hath claimed me for his own, no
matter how much I try to escape, he follows me.

Perhaps I think too many things or maybe
I'm too braindead for even that.

Feeling like an experiment gone terribly wrong,
like a slug under a microscope being
disected with a scientific eye.

I'm just living on borrowed time.

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