Darkness has a way of always finding you
When you're standing in the yellow sun
And it drifts like smoke into your mouth
Covering your mind and your lungs

What do you do when the darkness
Begins to take control of your mind?
And your soul drifts onto the ceiling
When you leave your body behind?

It's been a month and a half since you've been here
And it doesn't feel quite the same
These things can't reach any deeper
And they don't take away the pain

I am a cynical human being
I require someone to love
I can't write about happiness or courage
When my hands are covered in blood