My heart is an apocalypse
Empty
Dead and strange
Occasional signs of life
Constantly in strife
Fighting for survival in conditions so bitter
Although living in these conditions does create a kind of grit only found in wool sweaters

And to be honest I wish It was getting better
But it's not to be frank
My future seems to be like a sarcophagus, dark and dank
I wish I could find it in myself to love as much as stone cold Steve Austin drank

But My heart is an apocalypse
I can taste the tears on my lips
As you walk away
I can't see any reason that you would stay