What's left to do?
What have I ever done?
Still reliving a war I thought I won.

Inside my head, such bitter thoughts erupt.
Can't come to terms with the fact that I may be corrupt.

There must be something more, to life than giving up on myself.
There must be something more, than faking who I am to get attention.

I'm throwing my own intervention.
'Cause no one cares enough, to take an interest in all my problems.
Let alone solve them.

So here I am again, I just want this all to end.

You'll never see the true me.
I'm hiding where I'll forever be.
You'll never find me, because I'm still chasing dreams that I'll never reach.

The little sanity I've kept with me, is having a fist fight with my emotions, trying to keep me alive.

So close to self-destruction.
Sold myself after a price reduction.
I guess I'm not worthless after all.
Just cheap to the people that surround me.

Where is this "god" of yours?
All I see are petty thieves and whores.
I don't have to draw the line.
I'm taking back what's rightfully mine.

Close your eyes, count to ten.
Maybe when you look up, I'll be gone and you'll be happy again.

Just put your head in your hands, when you look up, my dreams will have been long dead.
Been long, long dead.

Give and take, a vicious cycle.
Give 'em an inch, they take a fucking mile.
You say I'm wrong, but you're in denial.
Shake my hand, fake a smile.

Saying sorry to myself, because it's my own fault. I should pull the trigger now, so that you'll all be safe. I'm the worthless one. The worthless one with the gun to his head. Over me. Over me. You're over me. Under her. Under her. I'm still under her spell. I'm goin' straight to hell.

You'll never see the true me.
I'm hiding where I'll forever be.
You'll never find me, because I'm still chasing dreams that I'll never reach.

(Please change my mind, while I'm still breathing.)

You say that life is a decision. A decision to live in sadness, or a decision to live in happiness. You must think the world is idiotic, because nobody with a brain would want to live the way I do. Constantly wondering when someone will find the insecurities you've been trying to hide behind your back for so long. It's not depression. It's fear, a fear that you're never going to be good enough for anyone, especially not yourself. So before you put down people who already have their heads hung low, and try to tell them that what they're going through is just a choice they can make in one moment, think. If everyone had enough strength within themselves to make this venture to happiness on their own, why wouldn't they?