Every day He lies
To himself and the world around him
He dons clothing too dark for his skin,
He closes his eyes because when they open
He only sees whats inside
You could say hes so blind to it, that he leans on it
Every morning when he gets out of bed Like a crutch
Hes the kind of broken that can never heal
Hes the bundle of sin that will never be forgotten
Hes the ball of problems that forgot how to roll
Hes so...so dead inside