For all intents and purposes,
I'm dead.
The alarm clock set my fate,
and tonight this place means nothing.
Just concrete walls dressed in photographs of people I've never met,
these are the things you think about when you can't get to bed.
But I've heard it said the toughest times will end,
but I've seen enough to know that these are just
flimsy affirmations from your friends.
So I'll take what I can get,
from another night laying here open eyed,
thinking about the reasons I'm alone again.
With every tick this clock can take,
I'm lying helpless underneath these sheets,
closing my eyes bares no escape.
For troubled minds these darkened rooms
are getting smaller by the day.
These are the longest nights
of your young life, so plan accordingly.
(Can't sleep won't sleep)
We're all just living.