Parkway Drive

In a world of devoid of emancipation
Like leaves too many question marks
On my conscience, why?
Why look up
The ground is so much more pleasing
And it"s where these eyes belong
I renounce,
I renounce myself
What I have become is not
What I wish to be
Break my neck
I"ve become too accustomed to hopes
Hope"s cruel grasp
Progression or regression