Going to work just isn't working,
Coming home all alone,
and still feel like nothing.
You get to sit on your throne made from the flushings,
again all alone in the smoke and the ashes.
You thought you could do this alone but you're struggling to stop it.
Are you pained by the pain you caused, is it constantly throbbing?
Thoughts that just can't be ignored cause your head to spin violent.

For the soothing of the soul
For the resting of the mind
For the pumping of the blood
and excessive beating of the heart
For those journey's to somewhere else
For that welcome reprieve from reality
I can always rely on you