As time moves on, I watch the color fade.
The life in my face dies with the choices that I make.
It seems I’ll never get this right, so just fake it for tonight.
The same old “I’ll be alright.” The same fake “I said I’m fine.”
How can I have an ounce of confidence? How can I act like I’m proud?
When I do the same things to myself, always cutting myself down.
I’ve given life my everything, but I still fell short.
And if tomorrow isn’t coming my way, I won’t lose sleep.
I am running and hiding from the thoughts of dying, that always seem to follow me at night.
‘Cause if you live in the moment and not a second past, you can lie to yourself about the things you’ll never ask.
A thousand pages set to flame. As I fall short, I’m the only one to blame.
See I’m starving for something I can’t comprehend.
I can’t hear anything over the noise of what’s unsaid.
The sinking feeling inside my chest comes easier than a night of rest.
I’m losing color, fucking sick to my stomach. The cold sweat is making itself at home again.
The poster child example of a lack of self control.
Destroying what’s mine, just because it’s beautiful.