I'm running my hands through my hair,
ripping out the loose strands.
I'm finding nothing in our lives,
goes just as planned.

I'm tired so I rub my eyes,
but nothing seems to satisfy that itch I have for sleeping by your side tonight,
isn't this a wonderful life?

It's six years of burning tears,
broken hearts and confirmed fears,
that everyone I know goes away in the end,
just like Trent Reznor said.
And every day is a new fight,
and I don't know if I'll make it out alive,
so when I rest my head at the end of the day,
I thank God I survived the fray,
because under the circumstances,
I shouldn't be alive,
but I am,
so I'll take it.