I cant bank on my words to change what's on my heart My hands are calloused but I'm still swinging in the dark Something has to change Help lines and hope wanes It's been 400 days and I still feel the same Baby lung alarm clocks Substance fed anger And I'm not moving anymore 3 hours of sleep is as good as it gets Unloading threats; floating upon seas of regret Weathering swells in a sinking ship **** your pale skin, thin lips, and bony hips.