The sound of crying is just a background noise
My house is a pit of despair
Lost with the rest of the world
Which I try so hard to bare

But cope how you may
or don't cope at all
At this point patience is thin
either way

So until we find ourselves
in what seems to be the end
a bitter dark place that
has left me no time to mend.

They say life is good
they say life is great
the only problem is
it sure doesn't count for my fate

And no matter what my fate is
I fear it is not swell
because if life on earth is bad
then I wonder what is hell?

I ask myself why it's so hard
perhaps it's a test
against the other people
to seperate good and the rest

The weeping and sobbing
has lost it's importance
but what else can we do
when we put on a performance

Fake a smile for the crowd
they might think you're okay
and maybe they won't ask you questions
until another day.