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Every time I try, I try |
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to read between the lines |
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i'm left wondering why I get so lost |
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every time I try; I try try to rationalize |
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when everyone went wrong. Why did we die? |
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Every time I think about what it would be like |
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without all the things you did to me. |
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Why these thoughts keep running through my head. |
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Nothing to believe. Look back find the things I? ve lost. |
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There is nothing left of myself it seems. |
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There is nothing left. Up hill both ways. |
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Nothing left to say. I don? t know how I made it this far. |
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I don? t know how. Don? t know how. I made it last this long. |
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I made it this far. I don? t know why. Don? t know why. I tried. |
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Why these things keep going through my head. |
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Going through my head. Don? t know which way to turn. |
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Which way to turn. Its back. Goes up hill both ways. |
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Look back to the things I? ve learned. There is no excuse. |
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Up hill both ways. Nothing left to do, no where to run away you? ll see. |
