I was no Trent Reznor, that’s for sure. Please excuse the amateurishness of this post, I wrote it when I was a mere child.

It hurts to be alive. Sometimes I can’t wake up, it seems.
Some days I drive and drive but this road only leads to dreams.
And I can’t be sure it’s real; have I gotten past the peel?
Am I ever going to know?

I’ve got the marks to prove, I pinched until I broke the skin,
and time cannot remove the scars I left behind again.
I’ve got the baggage in my trunk from another ship that sunk.
Am I ever going to know?

And I will wrestle with the thought,
’cause I think it’s all I’ve got
left to keep.
And I will hunt myself until
I finally catch my will
and I sleep.

It hurts to be alone. I’d give myself for love, and rice.
But I’m frozen to the bone, and far too poor to pay the price.
They’re staring at me strange, as I’m looking for some change.
Didn’t they say that change is good?

So maybe I’ll admit I’m waiting for the ache to fade,
and I want to breathe a bit before the next mistake is made.
But I know which one I’ll choose, and the dignity I’ll lose.
Do I really want to know?

And I will wrestle with the plot
till I find out if I’m not
supposed to see.
And I will hunt you down until
you tell if you will
hunt for me.

But I want to know
if this is what I need.

Tags: crap, lyrics