It's like your sitting beneath the ocean
Trying to aim high at the sky
But your tiny bed feels like a graveyard
When you're surrounded by erasers
All blunt from erasing the truth and sharpening your sorrow laden hollow
Please ignore the fighting, and put on your headphones
Drown in the recoil of your existence
Do you mind the talking or is it everything?
That chokes you into anger
Please sound the alarms, wasted on deficit
Does it help to be wasted under the velvet day
Are you looking for a new place to begin?
You start by getting up from your bed