Senses dulled, every day the same; if the world explodes, will my expression change? The glass (of cyanide) is half- empty; the one who got the first half got out easy.
Inside, all it does is rain…unhappiness has blocked the drain. It’s filling up here much too fast-I don’t know how long I can last.
More awake when I’m asleep, for twenty two hours I’ve been counting sheep. “Just a phase, it can’t be helped.” I’m sick of these lies that I tell myself.
Inside, all it does is rain…unhappiness has blocked the drain. It’s filling up here much too fast-I don’t know how long I can last.
Gotta find a I gotta find a way that I can have peace. Won’t pull the trigger, won’t drown in liquor, I’m not giving up so easy. But it seems that my dreams have gone out the door; hope’s a joke that just isn’t funny anymore. I’m tired of thinking…the voice of reason has long since had her mouth taped shut.
Inside…
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