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Broken Heart, Faded Paint
Im bleeding and crying
My sanity, subsiding
I think I'm dying
God, I think I'm dying
I've sharpened my nails, clawed my eyes away
But the memory of you has decided to stay.
Its like my life has been molded out of clay.
But the paint is starting to fade.
I'm hurting so bad
But its become the new fad.
Pain is the new good, and happiness is just sad.
So I guess GOOD times are what we've always had.
At least, thats what I'm telling myself.
You see, you're still you, but I don't think I'm me.
I'm arguing in my mind, and it refuses to cease.
I'm hating myself to a brand new degree.
Suicidal thoughts, farther than the eye could perceive.
My outside is cracking, but my inside is dead.
The only part that still works is the shit in my head.
My mouth is dry, and my veins full of led
I would die to feel at ease in my own fucking bed.
This is just one more thing added to my plate.
I'm trying to act normal while in a psychotic state.
But look, I'm tired, and its getting late,
Tommorrow I'll be carving my name on a slate.
Hope someone remembers to toss it on my grave.
And to paint it again, because it's starting to fade.
