Irate - Depression | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Irate
• Depression

It's a simple fact of life, sometimes I hate myself.
Hate every thought in my head.
Hate every word from my mouth.
And it drives me so insane that I can't escape myself.
From the endless nightmare, I wake up and face my hell.

I don't know why I can't reach a better place.
Fretting over time transpired, ashamed of what it says.
I've been through all of this before ,and I'll be through it again.
Countless times I've found myself facedown in my hands.

Depression, consuming me.
I haven't lived up to all I hoped I would be.
Depression some call it disease.
It's always just been a way of life for me.

I no longer ponder suicide.
Why take the easy way out?
When I know that deep inside, I need the pain.
This is not a cry for help, self-pity makes me sick.
This is how I just freak out, I need abuse to self inflict.

And it drives me so insane that I can't escape myself.
From the endless nightmare, I wake up and face my hell.

Depression, consuming me.
I haven't lived up to all I hoped I would be.
Depression some call it disease.
It's always just been a way of life for me.

Dualism is my master.
Masochism in my laughter
Can't keep time from moving faster.
Life's a bitch, deal with it bastard.

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