Her depression is a whisper: 'You aint good enough Beckie'

Its a look in the mirror, 'n' all she sees is nature's worst mistake

So she's found caged from time-travelling to her greener planets

Coz her depression is an album of torn pictures of Cupid's ******

Wakes up one morning 'n'  just bundles herself in the corner

Its a feeling of a cold liquid trail on her cheeks 'Oh, i am crying', for no reason

Its her untraveled lonesome whisper that kisses her apart

And she gets to hear the clock tick and lazily sing on the wall;

...sings of the goodbyes she said without reasons at all...

So sometimes she just wants to pull her heart outta her rib cage and...

throw it away simply coz she can do without it

Coz her depression is a silent hormonal war