Life is a bore, for which I ignore.
Living a life of pain, nothing more to gain.
Shunned by family, no one wants me.
Living alone, no place to call home.
So I write it in words, but there are no words.
That explains me.
As dumb as I am, I’m leaning on a nail in the doorjamb.
Holding a piece of paper in my hands.
Nothing to me now, smoking a cigarette every hour.
Locked up inside witch no feelings, lying on my bed starring at the
ceiling.
Suppressing myself with music, it’s the only way I know how to use it.
My friends have lovers. I have no one.
I wish I had someone.
Living with a disease that there’s no cure for, sleep is what I lack of.
I wish I had more.
As I’m slowing dieing, I hear myself crying.
Searching for something new.
In the tunnel there is no light, there is no light that’s insight.
Killing the man that I call me, from now on there is no we.
Looking through the eyes of that witch I am, living life through the eyes of
a madman.
Darkness comes and the light goes, the pain inside always grows.
Day becomes night then night becomes day, the darkness in my mind is here to
stay.

 
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