1. |
selfless
02:31
|
|||
|
Caught in the middle, walking a tightrope
Cut this thing loose so I can just go home
I give and give and give all of myself
Well I’d give, I’d give anything to feel fulfilled
I’m spreading myself thin
Just to be broken by this wind
The candles have all burned out
And I’m filled to the brim with self-doubt
Lock the door and toss the key
So I can be by myself
At least then I won’t waste all of me
For someone else’s own wealth
This force of habit’s wearing me
Into the shell of a person
I’m done with martyring myself
When I can’t even feel content
I’ve been emptied
of all remaining sympathy
So please just bury me
for the peace of this silencing
|
||||
2. |
turned to dust
04:30
|
|||
|
My shoulders are aching
from a conscience forsaken
And I still can’t sleep at night
Wondering how to make things right
I’d beat my head against a wall
If it could help me find any peace at all
I looked to you for a way out
of an endless cycle of hating myself
The leaves are changing,
my heart is failing
And I’m stuck in one place
My eternal wasteland
I was born to be alone
Without a place to call a home
And I feel sick
Thinking I could drag someone into this
|
||||
3. |
comfort
03:42
|
|||
|
I’m driving endlessly
Until the gas is on empty
Because I want to feel the pain
Of being left alone with myself to blame
This familiar feeling
Keeps me warm at night
Under these cold sheets
Just like my hair keeps growing thin
I can’t help but hate the skin I’m in
I want to feel this pain
Because there’s no better days ahead
It’s something to hold onto
Hoping it will get me through
Wither away
like the leaves grown dead
Bury this sorrow deep
Deep inside my head
|
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4. |
in these chains
04:03
|
|||
|
"This storm too will pass," she said. "The sun, it will rise once again."
But how could this be the case when these floorboards are a familiar place.
How much longer can I convince myself not to seek an end to this hell.
These walls are like a prison, your hands, the shackles in which I'm bound.
Is this my purgatory, a life devoid of glory?
Don't wake me up. I've grown restless with promises.
Your room is like a prison, these memories in which my dreams died.
I'm sick of the bright side, I'm happy that you died.
|
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5. |
||||
|
Wheeling, West Virginia, it's been eighteen hours
Staring at the passing lines, I'm losing control of myself
You said you couldn't do this, it just hurt too much with the distance
We're not the same as when we were sixteen, so I hang my head in defeat
Denver, Colorado, my spirits are higher than these mountaintops
I never pictured myself reaching the finish line with my mental health
Optimism never suited me, living my life in search of sympathy
It's an unfamiliar feeling wanting nothing more than this company
Montréal, Québec, things fall apart again
Les choses tombent en morceaux encore
Et ma vie se détériore
|
||||
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