The strings around my neck begin to tighten
as each strand carries its own song of hate and worry
about things that I'll never be able to do

The noose made by my own self pity grows tighter
and the forced lies escape my empty lungs
I created this noose with my own mistakes

The problems I face are not loneliness or lack of respect for oneself
but I lack respect for the world
It seems meaning less to care for the pictures that break into my mind

Family and friends have turned into actors
and my life is the stage
For the meaningless play forgotten in a century

My grim way of thinking has caused me to be hung
by my own meaningless lines from an empty script
as I forget to breathe