Isolated in this cold barren house.
Just trying to find my way out.
Faces are growing colder and colder,
Is it because I'm growing older?
I'm so sick of this place I want to run away.
But if I do I wonder if it will be safe.
Knocked down time and time again.
Doing nothing, no hope, no friends.
In the past there was always the hope to mend.
But I'm more empty, and the loneliness is creeping back in.
I keep finding myself dreaming about death.
What's there to lose? There's nothing left beating in my chest.
If I could find a way to go away peacefully, I doubt I'd miss the scenery.