Growing weary at the end of the day,
And with no end clear in sight,
Because my troubles have begun to weigh,

With far too many reasons to pray,
And with no strength left to fight,
Growing weary at the end of the day,

As I slowly rise from where I lay,
I’ve lost at least a foot of height,
Because my troubles have begun to weigh,

My mouth opens just enough to say,
Bring me some relief this night,
Growing weary at the end of the day,

I smile as my thoughts begin to stray,
Of falling then stepping into light,
Because my troubles have begun to weigh,

The blade shines with the break of day,
The falling blood glistens bright,
Growing weary at the end of the day,
Because my troubles have begun to weigh.