Sitting here, working on penmanship,
scribbling down words to live by.
False ideals that I’d rather die for.
Words on paper that burn so easily.
I’ve already died.
Stretching out laundry on boards, laying out tomorrow’s attire.
Tie your reasons so tight that they choke me,
if I need to know them I hope that it kills me.
I’m already dead (dead on the inside).
I’ve taken back so much already and I learned to take crosses along
with me, tie this ribbons so tight that they choke me
not for them just pray that it kills me.
I’ve already died.
All my heros, thoughts, dreams are dead (so soon it’s gone).
Take the last breath from me (will you miss me?)
I’m already dead.
I’ve already died.
Young dreamers, fools.