I've been hit in the head with a frying pan.
There's a bit of a ringing in my ears.
All thoughts stem from depresson,
so I sit inside my room.

I watch the walls
yellow and I watch the
shadows change for hours.

I've been hit in the head with a frying pan.
They kicked me to the dirt, hit me, crippled me.
And I can't bear to weigh my options.
I can't bear to leave the house.