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I want nothing more than to end this disease.
Give me what i want please God just set me free.

Between this dream and life is a place that i call home,
No light will penetrate no blade will cut the bone.
Im done.

Four pounds have shed my frame, am i the one to blame?
Three pounds of putrid dust no sound as no one came.
Im done.

Its times like this, i wish for something,
in the end im left with nothing.

My weakend mind implodes, insanity controls.
My mind now imitates this hell this old black hole,
of dust and sound!

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