I said that I don’t know,
When you asked if I should go.
But maybe if I wasn’t lying I’d try.
For a little bit,
For the hell of it.
But maybe,
I’ll meet me.
And save me,
From this place.
‘Cause these days,
I’d rather waste away, in my grave.
Waiting for the real me to occupy my brain.
Let me listen to you or else I’ll go insane,
This is the end.
I feel like I’m my own imaginary friend.