Someone wrote these words before
and my back's against the wall
as I try to be original.


Did you try to call me all week?
I cracked my head open on my bedroom floor.

Did you try to talk to me all week?
Well, I don't want to talk to you.
Just get out of my room.


I scratched out my eyes,
I can't stand the sunshine.

I feel okay as long
as I'm feeling like dying.
I trust these lies that

I didn't tell myself and
I trust the things that are
killing me in the end


and you're killing me.