I don’t give enough to take back what I own.
My stories are told out of broken homes.
I could be a bit better if I kill off this ghost.
I bleed from the inside,
And I won’t tell anyone.
I’m nowhere to find,
But I couldn’t care at all.
Live like a ghost to keep me from talking, til’ you notice where I’m at,
Cause I couldn’t care at all.
Nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run to when nobody listens.
I’m just a liar that’s tired of trying.
I’ll pick myself apart cause I couldn’t care at all.
And I’m sick
I’m sick of waiting.