'You want too, but you don't know if you can.'

You want to write, but you don’t know what about.
You want to speak out, but you don’t what to say.
You want to fall asleep, but you don’t want to wake up.
You want to die, but you don’t have the guts to take your own life.

Hypocrisy is just a way of life, lies are the new truth,
tripping over your past, stumbling into your future.
Time slows down, but your years speed past.
 Everything’s slipping away, there’s no time to grasp it,
the communication, the responsibility, the f*****g misunderstandings.

You want to be happy, but depression always takes you.
You want to make friends, but they’ll just think you a failure.
You want to get away, but you have no idea how to.
You want to live, but that takes too much effort.

If a switch could turn it all off, f**k the emotions,
I’d give up my whole past, live in the present, and call the future a b***h.
Nobody else can honestly say that they have put on my shoes,
because to do that, then you must be lost,
in the depths of the darkness, and the oceans of blood.