I have been a trillion years older than I was meant to be.
I have lived the pain and thunder of the world we chose to be in.
I'm exhausted now,
I just want to sleep.
Looking right behind to all I never did.
Nor will.

When the burden of my heart grows heavier
I know I can't carry my anvils with me.
I'll let them go deep down
Like a sinking ship.
I'll let them drag me down
And have an end at least.

When words aren't enough for the shattered voice of my stupid soul
I avoid to think cause if i think then I'll get trapped in my head, all alone.

If the world's like this, then I don't know where to be; it is not the best way to exist, being pointlessly devoted to the lost dreams and spitting up some fire through my tears.

What is life like if it didn't mean to hurt?
What is life like if doesn't mean to live?
What is the world like this like in another way to see it straight?
Where are the answers?
To whom shall I speak?

Tell me the story about the ones who manage to live. They shall borrow me their wisdom, cause I'm on my way out of here.

Can anybody save me before I disappear?