They say the more things change,
The more they stay the same,
And I'm fucking sick,
Of feeling this way.
Everything that comes easy to everyone else,
Keeps me awake at night,
Fearing for myself.
I sleep far too much,
Cause I'm afraid to wake up,
And face how empty my life has become.
In my head,
Telling me to just let go.
So I'll keep poisoning myself,
Just to feel anything else.
I'll fan the flames that burn my skin,
I'll light the match that burns within,
There's no hope in a grave,
And all the dead are dead just the same.