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