I can feel stuff comingnI'm scared of a life of painnJust round the corner is sadness and miserynTomorrow I can dienToday I need to sort this outnStart with the kitchen, the bedroom, then my familynnI can feel depression comingnIt always starts with the cloudsnThen the fear of phones and mirrors and not wanting you aroundnnYou stay closenAnd you sit tightnDon't be so faraway tonightnI may be badnAnd I may be wrongnBut you know I won't stay this way for longnnThen I remembernThat you remind menI do have have some stuff to look forward tonLike those replica screaming eyesnThat are going to look to menTo tuck them in at night and raise them rightnnDon't call menBecause I wont pick up the phonenDon't come aroundnBecause I probably won't be homenThere's this little thing that is mundane and a borenBut it locks me up and stares me out and drills a holennDon't invite menI'm safer where I amnBest not to make plansnBecause I'll just agree and then cancelnThere's this little thing that is mundane and a borenBut it locks me up and stares me out and drills a holenn