A life built from pieces can shatter too easy
Progression under pressure, makes happiness deceiving
Travelling so far to fall back down, who really needs me?
Who's to say what is want and what is needing.
All this bullshit, the waste of air I'm breathing
It's all a lie, the life I've built from the rollercoaster feelings
The most I've accomplished was due to fine-print misreading
19 years and nothing to show but scars never healing
Self-inflicted wounds of the soul, it's your life I'm stealing
I hate myself, how I'm needy, how I am really
Painting a portait on blank canvas so revealing
An empty picture's what's there, that's really me...
