Underneath all the tears that I do shed
I will always find my way back to you.
For deep down dark inside of this bowed head
Grow machinations to subvert rescue.
For the entirety of my lost life
I have wanted to be a memory.
Cold calloused collateral of calm strife;
An accident of mental history.
But now I am hanging on by a thread
Pushed firmly to the brink of extinction.
The thought that circles round inside instead;
Could I have lived a life of distinction?
Of all the lies that I have said I lived
The current path will be the most abridged.