I have died, but only on the inside.
You can't see, but you're dying just like me.
I'm an empy shell, but conscience of my hell.
You're so happy, just fake and free.

Why can't I see like you?
I just want to live w/out a care...
I don't want to be sad.
Always hating myself. It's not fair!

I feel there is no one but me.
I'm all alone in here.
So twisted on the inside.
Nothing left of me, no fear.

I want to be gone.
Without a trace.
No one to find me,
and I've done so well, so why ain't I happy, yet?

I guess being sad has its drawbacks, too.
I never meant to hurt you.
To bring you into my dark world.
To kill you, too...

You're gonna die like me.
You say it's fine cuz you love me,
But that's a lie,
And you know it...

We can't feel here
No talking, no touching.
We sit and listen for the others.
But only our silence fills the room.

I hate that no one will know us.
That used to be all I wanted.
But with us both dead, what's the point?
Becasue you know I'm faking, right?
 
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