It doesn't feel too right
When youre greatest enemy is life
And it doesn't feel good
When you're only friend is the
soft movement and whispers of the wind
No, it's not pleasant at all
You see images of yourself dead
In a puddle of blood and acid rain
On a dark cloudy day
And you quietly weep into your pillow
Every single night at 12AM
You scream out asking for an answer
An answer to why your soul is being eaten away
And you cry
And you cry and cry
You cry because it's the only thing you can seem to do...
