Here we are, with you
dragging me down again.
I have to struggle just to slow the drowning
but I can't break free from your grip.
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions:
I have to believe that if
you truly are my friend.
Still I wonder what you think
this is doing for me
isn't there a better way to
deal with the life we live?
I just can't seem to crawl out today.
There's a black hole inside
swallowing
a black sea inside
in which I'm drowning
a hand within
dragging me down.
I want to ask why you're doing this
but I stop myself and ask instead
how exactly you think this
is helping me,
how this is serving me.
I know now that you're no enemy.
You always wanted the best for me.
Only wanted to serve me, but
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions:
I have to believe that if
you truly are my friend.
Still I wonder what you think
this is doing for me
isn't there a better way to
deal with the life we live?
What do you want me to do,
and how do I go about doing it?
I can't take another day of this
painful incongruence, we need
a more clear form of communication.
If I learned your language would you
just take a moment to listen to me?
I don't know what I want here,
I only know what it is I don't feel, and I
forgot all about the how, about plotting
the path between hell and the desirable
in the labryth of all my whys,
as I became more bitter and miserable.
I know now that you're no enemy.
You always wanted the best for me.
Only wanted to serve me,
but this is doing nothing for you,
nothing for me as far as I can see.
So I grab your hand
and I drag you up from the black
don't struggle against rising from your grave
you won't escape my grasp.
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions
but we need to build a new path;
we need to make a better map.
I'll show you what you've
been doing to me.
Together we'll make a
better way to live.
dragging me down again.
I have to struggle just to slow the drowning
but I can't break free from your grip.
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions:
I have to believe that if
you truly are my friend.
Still I wonder what you think
this is doing for me
isn't there a better way to
deal with the life we live?
I just can't seem to crawl out today.
There's a black hole inside
swallowing
a black sea inside
in which I'm drowning
a hand within
dragging me down.
I want to ask why you're doing this
but I stop myself and ask instead
how exactly you think this
is helping me,
how this is serving me.
I know now that you're no enemy.
You always wanted the best for me.
Only wanted to serve me, but
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions:
I have to believe that if
you truly are my friend.
Still I wonder what you think
this is doing for me
isn't there a better way to
deal with the life we live?
What do you want me to do,
and how do I go about doing it?
I can't take another day of this
painful incongruence, we need
a more clear form of communication.
If I learned your language would you
just take a moment to listen to me?
I don't know what I want here,
I only know what it is I don't feel, and I
forgot all about the how, about plotting
the path between hell and the desirable
in the labryth of all my whys,
as I became more bitter and miserable.
I know now that you're no enemy.
You always wanted the best for me.
Only wanted to serve me,
but this is doing nothing for you,
nothing for me as far as I can see.
So I grab your hand
and I drag you up from the black
don't struggle against rising from your grave
you won't escape my grasp.
The road to hell was
paved with good intentions
but we need to build a new path;
we need to make a better map.
I'll show you what you've
been doing to me.
Together we'll make a
better way to live.
