It′s getting hard to write about the past

When I have the answers for things I didn't ask

It′s hard to wake up with nothing on my mindSpending countless weekends wasting all my time

And it all comes crashing down everytime

You cannot convince me that I'm not really dead

When everyday feels the same nine times out of ten

I miss the warmth of living but I can't stand the heat

An embrace so familiar yet still so bittersweet