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Where Sinners Cry

de Almost Dead

For once can we get these things off of our chests? God, I'm dying here. And this time you've got the best of me, but I don't seem to care.
It's all the same, it's everyday. All day long I pace these halls, I'm wearing holes into the floor. What if this is all I have? I'm making a run for the door. As all my bridges are burning down, falling down is all that I know. So when I think about all the days I left behind, it makes me want to die, and it's everyday. This is too hard, am I wasting my breath? It's been quite the ride. But I'm fresh out of mistakes and I think that you're right. This is too hard, when all that I'm left is nothing but thoughts . . . so I'm thinking, yeah I'm thinking, that I would be better off dead.

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