I thought I had things under control,
I'm sorry for what I've put you through...

Why?
Why must you put me through this pain...

If the world stopped spinning,
Would you save me...

In the Devil's twisted hand
I lie, waiting for tomorrow...

Emptiness
Clouds his soul, shrouds his mind...

Slowly, I sigh
I look up, I cry...

The pain is marked across my face,
Like Sundays child who fell from grace...

The quiet sobbing that I make,
Beneath the duvet of my bed...

As minutes turn to hours
And the hours turn to days...

A rotting carpet,
A tattered couch...