When every word just makes you feel that much colder
And the dirt of everything you hold dear turns to mud
When you can’t escape the futility of your own existence
And so you pour another drink because numb has to be bought
Knuckles turning white because if you let go you’ll fall
And you’re afraid of what sleeps in the clouds you’ll fall through
Cascading memories parading through your mind
And not a one of them give a **** about you now