Gravestones and empty chairs
There's a world full of people
But not one of them cares


You wake yourself up, pick out the clothes that you will wear
You get to your car, but your demons have beaten you there


I'm sleeping and sleeping and sleeping
But not really sleeping you know?

I'm just laying here thinking of how much I miss you
But I couldn't ever tell that, who the $#&@ could ever tell you that?
I'm swear that I'm not desperate, I'm just wondering where the hell you at

It's complicated
I don't even exist to you
tellin you how I feel is the only thing that makes sense to do

But I'm afraid I mean less to you now than what I previously meant to you
I'm standing on the edge without an inch to lose
And it's all... my... fault...


Maybe everything is falling to pieces for real this time
Maybe tonight I won't be so afraid to die


Nothing real requires faith
So God has me looking quizzical

But sometimes the realest things happen to be invisible
Like the essence of who we are as unique individuals
And the last time I checked love wasn't physical

Feeling fragile as $#&@, this depression is clinical
So maybe you will understand why I ain't actin the most sensible
This cycle is cynical; we're void of morals and principal

So I'm sorry I don't play games like Atari I'm too busy being miserable
It's a good chance I'm being too !@#^ytical
But being stupid, and simple these days is so $#&@ing typical

And I refuse to be aware and to remain hypocritical
maybe I'm difficult to get cuz you ain't used to original


Gravestones and empty chairs
There's a world full of people
But not one of them cares


You wake yourself up, pick out the clothes that you will wear
You get to your car, but your demons have beaten you there


I'm saying I'm sorry for %#@! I that shouldn't even be sorry for
Are we strangers? Are we past tense? Are we friends or are we more?

Have you moved on? Should I put my shoes on?
Are you getting your groove on?
Should I get my booze on?

Another murder every time I turn the news on
It's like %#@!...
How many people we have to kill until everyone is content?

Stop it, just take the $#&@ing hint
And drop it
I see you're disagreements

But why fight each other
When we all have our own demons?


Dollar bills everywhere
Money means everything


Well how much do I have to spend?
To bring back a dead friend?
I'm just wondering

%#@!... I'm just wonderin
I've got so many emotions
I'm just used to being numb to them

It's either all or nothing, you can't choose to feel some of them
The world has enough cold hearts, don't be one of them