Sometimes I feel like this body is not even mine
Feel's like living is wasting my time
No matter how good things be I never feel fine
Feeling the feelings feels like a crime
Even tears ditched me this time
Even the pen started to stutter
Is this the end of the line?
Don't know anymore why the hell I'm still writing
Black ink on the paper has gone the real black this time
And for the matter of fact
Black comes after Red
Remember me? I'm the lively dead!