My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
I've spent so long sleeping but paranoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance
Vapid flings give way to the perilous
My slow conversations with life devoid
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
One edge is straight, a knife, my preference
Trivial suffering makes me avoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance
I've cloaked myself, remain ambiguous
So, in midday, I have tempted the void
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
No addiction equates to elegance
What is the point in a teen self destroyed
Too many vices, I chose temperance
With depression, I remain decorous
My mind flirts with bloodstains and carcinoids
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
Too many vices, I chose temperance