These waves wash over me.

It cannot be the undertow is me.

Call me, call me Mr. Pain.

As I go insane, the barbed wire cuts my veins.


People say that sadness sells.

Well, if that's the case then my mind

Should've gone triple-platinum by now.


What'll happen next?

It's kind of hard to tell.

So fucking lonely, even myself.


I'm basking in my lonely paradise.

Put my heart on ice, helps me feel alive.

I'm waiting by the telephone.

My only link to home.

So alone.


So tell me

What you think my mind would look like

Painted on your bedroom wall.

Don't worry.

I won't make a mess.

You know I'm not smart anyways.


Trapped in a world stuck in a fucking shell.


Please, world, I bet of you:

Associate with this.