People are always looking for something to believe in,
Something to blame when bad things happen,
Something to explain the un-explainable,
Because we're afraid of what we don't understand.
That's why people turn to luck,
But it's just an illusion, created by sad, confused minds,
And you can't let an illusion rule your life,
Even if it seems like a good option.

I pace myself whilst walking with the ghosts of a tainted past,
On roads of lies and broken promises, paved with an intent of malice.
Next to the roads, flowers of hatred blossom, they're surrounded by vines that consume and constrict,
These are each home to countless thorns that all hold a poisonous touch,
The pain's enough to drive a man mad, so why do I beg for more?
The further I walk, the more I find my judgement's being clouded,
I feel as if I'm a marionette, being made to dance,
Somebody's controlling my every move, choice is no longer an option,
This feeling, it's confusing, a mixture of excitement and dread,
I don't want to stop, or carry on, I want another option instead.

I was so drunk on love,
That I didn't taste a single drop,
Now I'm left crying on the floor,
Gathering pieces of my broken heart,
You never know how lucky you are,
Until you lose everything.
I can't believe I let you slip through my fingers,
What was I thinking?
Not even alcohol can fix this mess,
If drunks meet guys like you, I'm done drinking.

I can tell I'm drowning, no-one's coming to save me,
Not even my parents care about their "special baby",
I can feel waves of panick, washing over me,
As I try to fight against the strong pull of the sea,
My strength is fading quickly, my energy's nearly gone too,
I can't hold on much longer, I'm done waiting for you.

This is the one secret, I can never share,
I fear that this burden, is more than even you can bear,
It takes a strong heart to learn a loved one feels this way,
And an even stronger one to learn you're lied to everyday,
You ask me how I'm feeling, I tell you I feel great,
When really, I look at everything and feel filled with hate,
It's not my fault I can't stop crying,
On the inside, I feel like dying,
I fear that before anyone learns the truth, I'll be dead or near,
But that's okay, because I'm getting used to pain and tears.

I just feel so scared, of the one I should love,
I'm lying here, paralysed by fear,
As I listen to him sleeping above,
I'm a prisoner in my home, I need to break free,
Preferably before something else happens to me,
Oh, curse these chains that have me trapped here,
I need to escape, and leave this place,
I'm at a point where I can't even look at his face…

The pain they enjoy is different,
To that they inflict upon others,
This type of pain isn't physical,
But still rather horrible,
It comes from the self-loathing and hate they put themselves through,
For enjoying what it is they do,
It's their own type of masochism,
An internal form of torture,
They can't show their victims this second side,
Otherwise they won't cower in fear and hide,
Because why would anyone be scared,
Of someone who willingly shared,
The fact that they feel guilt and sadness too,
Maybe even more than you do.