It's hard, sometimes, to remember you're still alive
When everyone ignores you
When no one acknowledges your presence
Or looks you in the eye
Strange things happen to the mind
Sit inside yourself long enough
And the outside world doesn't seem worth going back out into
All the horrors of the times
Running rampant and unrestricted
The worst of all junkies
Have a nation of their own
Dogs whimper and cry out in pain
Bones with decaying flesh still on them
Taught and covered in flies
The flowers smell nice but they are still just growing among the weeds
Death is not the problem
Death is a friend
Death is a relief from suffering
Life is, and has always been, the problem
When everyone ignores you
When no one acknowledges your presence
Or looks you in the eye
Strange things happen to the mind
Sit inside yourself long enough
And the outside world doesn't seem worth going back out into
All the horrors of the times
Running rampant and unrestricted
The worst of all junkies
Have a nation of their own
Dogs whimper and cry out in pain
Bones with decaying flesh still on them
Taught and covered in flies
The flowers smell nice but they are still just growing among the weeds
Death is not the problem
Death is a friend
Death is a relief from suffering
Life is, and has always been, the problem
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