It gets better they say
But who can really tell when every day is just a gamble.
The idea that it will seems so far from my mind
My thoughts in general haven't been kind.
Echoes of my own cries of frustration are all that surrounds me
The thought of going mad terrifies and is the only thing that grounds me..
Love, Loss, Lies, Leisure.
My suffering is giving me pleasure.
The end is near, the sky is falling
But the only thing I hear is my pitiful thoughts calling.
We see the end of another day
We'll see in the end, if I can find my way.