As i drag what's left of my soul through what i call life,
I can't help but feel numb to the touch. **** this isn't right.
And i can't help but feel trapped in a world with no friends.
If only i could start over, somewhere new, because there's no hope to mend.
So i keep starting over every day as best as i can.
But nothing ever works, i really need to divise a new plan.
But how can you think of a new plan when you really have nothing?
I don't think it matters how you look at it, and no i was never bluffing.
I guess the only thing i can do is continue to drown my sorrows.
Because in what i call my life, everything so far has been borrowed.