Woke up too soon I'm still connected.
(I can't feel a thing because of what's inside of me.)
And I've been replaced but still I tried,
To cut the life that they are feeding me.
And my will is strong my hands unable,
To pull myself out of this hole I'm in again.
So small that I just fit,
In a corner deep inside my room,
Where still I'm killing you.
At times I'm closest when I'm focused,
On you again.
The load of guilt is the low of feeling high.
(I walk alone, and I walk alone.)
The load of guilt is the low of feeling high
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