My spine sings like a siren, a song of never-ending ache. The fingers of my ribcage slowly play the harmony, the sound that will forever keep me awake. With sad eyes I swallow time. Working my way to the bottom of this bottle; washed up, burnt out. I am so scared this fake smile I wear has worn cracks into my face where the screws go in. I’m stuck with the smile of a mad man and the eyes of the dead, so tired of this fake sentiment wearing cracks into my face. This is who I’ve become, I am a dead man, hey just can’t see it. I carry your ghost in my shadow. One foot in the grave. Your ghost is haunting me. Why couldn’t you hold on?
Dead man walking, we’re all living on borrowed time. Dead man walking, we’re all dying to feel alive.....