I find to much beauty in the rain,
as I sit here and watch myself completely drain.

I can't seem to process what you said,
as I silently sit here contemplating in my head.

All I can think about is how I wish I were dead.

"They don't care about you anyway."
So why do I sit here and continue to stay?

If tonight I decide to say goodbye,
would you please sing me a lullaby?

Or will you continue to stare at me like I'm some foreign creature
and watch me cry?

Drip drop the whiskey drops,        
shattered glass,
broken heart,    
consciousness lost,
but faith not,          
I see myself lying on the cold bedded rock..