We're both sinking and drowning from what it seems
I'm no illusionist, I can't simply disappear
Holding absence from my own breath
Is so much easier than bearing this fucking weight
I'm sick, I'm sick, I'm sick of myself
It seems like everything I touch turns to dust
I'm sick, I'm sick, I'm sick of myself
Is this for what it's worth or is it just me
This isn't for the broken hearted
This calls for the lost souls

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