Climb the ladder to rest forever, again.
I love you. I hate you. You left me. I'm dead.
Hanging from the hopes of dreams yet to come true.
Hopes can be ropes, when they're tied around you.
I feel broken, feel tainted, feel shattered again.
There's just no escape, the quilt in my head.
Searching for freedom in all the wrong places.
Kissing the photos of all the wrong faces.
You're free when you're dead.
He's free in his head.
We're all free in our own little way.
But it's hard to see, through the bars and the chains.
If being locked up was not bad enough,
I'm watched, and I'm stalked, and they ratted me out.
Now I'm on trial for what I didn't do.
I wonder if God will hold it against you.
You see, it's not really murder, if I committed a crime.
But what of the innocents all throughout time?
I climb the ladder to rest forever again.
I love you. I hate you. You left me. I'm dead.
