Sitting in a dead room ten shades of black,
Been slowly picking off all the old scabs,
And piling them neatly into a sacred spot,
Saving them for a trip to the wishing well.
Trying to remove the knives from my back,
Once upon a time I’d cry, now I just laugh,
Disloyalty and mistrust are all that I’ve got,
It is slowly killing me to just sit and dwell.
Haven’t seen a light in the tunnel in so long,
That a part of me believes the sun is dead,
Because optimism has gotten me nowhere,
Before I slam into another concrete wall.
How many years can I sing the same song,
To the friends that only exist in my head,
Until I can grasp nobody is actually there,
And justify all of my reasons to end it all?
Been contemplating the coward’s way out,
It beats a stupid man’s meaningless living,
A glimmer of hope in a piss poor existance,
Is that really so much for me to ask for?
Disregard everything coming from my mouth,
’cause I’m told God is supposedly forgiving,
And once I absolve myself from these sins,
I won’t feel deep seeded anguish anymore.
Been saying my prayers at the wishing well,
Hoping that one day my luck might change,
I see how well it works for everybody else,
If tragedy and pain was their dying wish.
Sickness befalls me but it’s too early to tell,
If I have received the solution to my pain,
Or it’s another losing hand I’ve been dealt,
And all the prayers I’ve said are worthless.