Let's hang the jury, you sick demented fools. Everything that I say won't be anything less when I'm down in the grave and you put me to rest. Life still suck when all you know is the bottom. When your reflection in the mirrors smiles back it lies, you know it. You stand with a gun in your hand, starring at the wall with a look so sad. He sits and waits, feeling broken and hollow, hands held close to his face asking "why do I bother?" It's so cold, my soul is numb. So you are broken, daydreaming, lost focus? I have no words that I can say to make you see that I know I couldn't make you stay. Should I use my heart or my head?