I hate it when you're not around,
To keep me from falling on the ground;
Cause when I fall too far,
It often leaves a scar.
Am I too far gone for anyone to save?
Or am I just digging my own grave?
I'm giving up in this game called life,
Cause my hearts bee stabbed with my own knife.
Ive lost all site of what I want in life,
Cause I'm unable to see past the strife;
I hope you're still waiting for me,
Or Ill drown myself in the sea.
I'm trying to make it on my own,
Cause its getting harder to breath with this heart of stone;
Maybe I'm meant to live this way,
Just to die and relive each miserable day.
