Emmure

And I hope every morning you wake up, it hurts more and doesn't stop.
And I hope every night you rest you lay and pray for death.
You made a better trophy in my dreams.
And now you are my nightmare.
I wonder, "Where did I go wrong?"
And you are all that's left of what it meant to live.
Don't worry. This will only hurt for a second. Sleep soundly.
Just where did I go wrong?
Just where did I go wrong?
And hoping for changes, we've wasted this, and what for?
And what for? One more day of this weight.
One more day of this dissolved presence.