Besedila: This Is Hell. Misfortunes. Memoirs.

Frustrated by failure, failure to communicate
i just want to give up throw in the towel, let it all slip away
every things become a filthy version of what it once was
I'm disgusted by my waning passion and my embrace for guilt
retrospect brings regret
but for now I'm shutting it all out
just expect nothing less
to be filled with self loathing and doubt
this potent sting of remorse is killing me because
retrospect brings regret
from now on I'm shutting it all out
i guess i lied when i said id die trying
so it would seem that I'm better off lying
in a pool of misery in the nearest reaches
of despair because I've reached rock bottom
clutching memories making sure I've got them
and if nothing more ill take them to my fucking grave
I've given all i can and i cant give anymore
been screaming "fuck!" for so long my throat is blood and raw
and letting it slip away is something that i thought id never do
looking back at the photographs to see
the difference was in my eyes
i must have lost something along the way,
used to turn anger to drive
but my eyes are open to reality
I'm through asking questions like "why me?"
I'm fucking done and I'm admitting defeat
and i wouldn't have it any other way
i wouldn't have it any other way, no one else can control me
and when i looked back i realized the difference was in my eyes
and now that I've come to terms with the relentlessness of misery
and recaptured the urgent feelings of despair
i feel whole again, whole again in the emptiness
and that is something i will both despise and cherish.
with every fiber of my being
coming to terms with the misery
coming to terms with the relentlessness
and thats something i will despise
with every fiber of my being
coming to terms with the misery
coming to terms with the relentlessness
and thats something i will cherish
and I'll do it with the greatest sincerity