I've got one simple statement to make (I am never going back 'cause I am finally awake)

I've reached my limit now and its all I can take

I've been living in a bubble whilst the trouble amounts (wasted seconds, wasted minutes tasted empty and dry)

I was looking in a mirror thinking "I don't know who you are" could it be this is all I am?



Every single day I wasted I am never getting back, but there is not a single thing that I can do about it

Every little drink that didn't satisfy me I cant unsink but now I think it's time to move on and prove myself wrong



I was living in a secret tragic fiction I was never a best selling just a shelf dweller I had to kill the author of my addictions I'm rewriting every word 

I am the story teller I cannot blame her I can only blame myself for her choice (she was crying to me why did I not hear her sweet voice?) 

If I find a glimmer of hope I know that I will rejoice



Could it be this is all I am? Wont you turn my pages I've got so much more to tell now that I've been through hell I wish to open all of the cages