Mother, I'm convinced that I'm simply not fit for this, or anything that could come my way.
You know I'd fuck it all up, anyway.
So why do I try.
So I'll lay on my back, and sleep another day away.
Hoping this will change.
What if no one's listening when I speak of how it's been; sleeping with my own worst enemy.
For more than 19 years and 30 days, I think it's only fair to say, I'm sick and I'm tired of dreaming when I sleep.
I'm a train on rusty tracks, and I'm dying to get out of here alive.