Art is just one way of inflicting self-harm on yourself. It's all a big cycle, and you ain't in it. Music is often a channel for screaming out for help. I am slowly fading.

I am turning moonlight into a thousand sounds, arming this weapon I found. “It’s fine, you have a place, you can use your voice for great.” You said, that is what you said. I say, don’t you fuck with me.

That’s your way to live, no way to live mine. Don’t you bullshit me and say that it’s fine. I’m not buying it. Kiss me goodbye, better seethe away. And when they ask you, you know exactly what to say. Don’t talk about it. Don't talk about it now.

All I want is stability. But I never had an identity. Why is it that I lack ability? Can't even cry when something's wrong with me. I'm preoccupied with things that don’t matter. Please answer me: will I ever feel better? Deader whether I tried or not. I think I’m going crazy but I can’t say why. I am starting to hate life. I am paraplegic with self-love. It cripples me and keeps me alive, but I am filled with hatred inside. Strolling by these empty cul-de-sacs. The wind will help me keep my mind. I’ll write a song and tell you: I ain’t coming back!

Oh, Ana, you left a mark on my life. But I can’t make a dent in yours. Now I realize that you always knew I would be cast out. All those years, none of it was me. It was all you, you, you, you.

I won’t let you run my life anymore. I can’t believe I ever loved you before. Won’t think about it. Cause I live this life for me and not you. And when you see me dying, you know what to do. Don’t talk about it! Don't talk about it now.

Alone again tonight. I'll never love again. Don’t say that I’m alright. I'll never trust again.

I miss feeling alive. Destruction of the shell, I'm peeling my old self away. I miss the autumn nights. Illuminate the night, my glow is slowly fading away. I miss looking up at the moonlight. Sitting there by the clouds with you and naming every star. I miss having to say goodbye. And I miss every single little thing we did together.

I miss the winds, I miss the sunlight bathing us while we slept. I miss you knowing me better than I would know myself. I miss singing for everyone, oh it was never enough. I miss my friends, I miss my friends, I miss my friends so much. I miss the music, I miss capturing the sounds of the sky. I miss your art and all the ways that they would make me cry. I miss the pain, I miss the lies, I miss my dreams, I miss my love. I miss that summer, I miss this song which I wrote to be rid of. I miss going home, I miss my sins, and I only miss you, you, you, you, you. Well, that I’m used to.