To get out of bed each day is a waste.
I wander around, feeling lost as if someone
pulled me into a darkened pit.
Fake smiles, bullshit laughter
HA! I think, I'm such a talented actor.
I decieve so many people into seeing
something I'm just pretending.
I'm only real when I'm alone, drugged up
or drunk, pouring my heart out into what
always turns out to be a rambling poem.
To myself I seem brilliant, each thought
makes perfect sense, its not until I open my
mouth to someone that I realize everything I
say is full of shit.
My addiction is depression, the sweet comfort
in my tears, no one understands how much I fear.
The thought of being cheery and acting all fun
and gitty seems so pointless when I know what will
happen when by eleven my friends scamper off to
go to bed.
The beer is drank, the drugs are taken; once again
my eyes are opened. I see it all, I know what they don't so why, I question do I still each and
every day get up and fall back into the same bullshit routine?
I wander around, feeling lost as if someone
pulled me into a darkened pit.
Fake smiles, bullshit laughter
HA! I think, I'm such a talented actor.
I decieve so many people into seeing
something I'm just pretending.
I'm only real when I'm alone, drugged up
or drunk, pouring my heart out into what
always turns out to be a rambling poem.
To myself I seem brilliant, each thought
makes perfect sense, its not until I open my
mouth to someone that I realize everything I
say is full of shit.
My addiction is depression, the sweet comfort
in my tears, no one understands how much I fear.
The thought of being cheery and acting all fun
and gitty seems so pointless when I know what will
happen when by eleven my friends scamper off to
go to bed.
The beer is drank, the drugs are taken; once again
my eyes are opened. I see it all, I know what they don't so why, I question do I still each and
every day get up and fall back into the same bullshit routine?
