You say you want to be happy
that you only need a chance
only need a hand to help you out of this hole
but I have been where you are now
I know your lies well
as they were once mine
I know the pleasure you find in your sadness
the joy in the pain
So when you tell these lies to yourself, to me, to the world
I know you need more than you say
but you will never tell anyone that you do
because you do not want to be happy
you want to stay just outside of reach
of all those that would try to save you
because you are content in your grief
comfortable with your pain
alone in you hole
dug for you
by you
but for me to fill
with the shovel of those that jumped in to save me
when they knew I was out of reach
who saw through your lies, my lies.