At the end of my rope Clean hands around the throat of my hope Throwing itself against the wall Trying to get used to it all I hear the voices from a lack-of-sleep induced psychosis I see the faces before the memory erases I hear the voices from a lack-of-sleep induced psychosis I see the faces before the memory erases I feel the void of the lives that I destroyed And left behind a residue of thoughts I can't avoid At the end of my time Safe box to ruminate on my crime Two sides of my brain don't get along On my weak days you make me strong I always knew it'd come to this Living in domestic bliss